Rogue Nation
by Syroc
Summary: Vast AU. It wasn't the Systems Alliance that fought the First Contact War, but the Collective Earth Government. And that was enough to change things significantly.
1. Prologue: First Contact

**AN: **Hey everybody! Remember that one time, when I made a story where I kept stabbing at our favourite characters? Yeah, those were good times! This story, alas, will have less of that.

Unfortunately, until that story is over, this one is will _not_ receive my full attention. Which means updates will come out whenever they get done, because as it is I'm only working on this when I'm not busy with **Deadly Resurrection**. Or my other side projects. But since I'm nearing the end of former and the latter are just that, it should only be a matter of time before this one this one gets my full attention.

Thank Inverness for giving me the initial seed of the idea (I liked where it went, but I will never write a crossover :D), and then Psychic Sandwich (**Bad Neighbours**) and WarlordFil (**Enemies Like You and Me**) for making the stories that further convinced me to go ahead. (Syroc says to read them. For they are awesome, and made of win. Though the WarlordFil stories definitely have a high citric content, so those of a prudish nature should steer clear.) As people who have already read those stories might guess, this story is going to be AU. Hugely so. Not so much of plotline, but most definitely in setting. Hopefully, the sum of it all will approach a level of awesome similar to the original.

Also, I'd like to extend many, many thanks to Porcupinetheatre for looking at the beginnings of it and not sneering at me. I interpreted that as praise. (Things I also interpret as praise: Positive Reviews, Smiles, the wind blowing and sun shining. Because I'm a very praiseworthy person.)

The prologue is only to set the scene, to make clear what exactly is different. The next instalment continues the Mass Effect storyline, though with the changes to the setting established here.

But before that:

**I do not own anything in the Mass Effect Universe.** They're all the property of Bioware. Except the things that aren't. But the chances of anyone wanting to steal _those_ are negligible. *Sigh*

Anyways!

* * *

**Rogue Nation**

**Prologue: First Contact**

* * *

"_I think, therefore I am better than you." - Citizen Kane_

The Chimera Technologies research station _Transcendence_, located in orbit around the planetoid 2135 DK9 which itself orbited the vastly larger gas giant Tempest, was populated by a small team of researchers and three of Chimera Tech's own Special Case Citizens (who were currently going by the names of Selene, Ixion and Jules) was universally regarded by the company's personnel as one of the dullest places in known space. Situated as it was at the fringe of human expansion and thus far away from any hostile elements – CEG separatist partisan groups, independent colonies, competitive corporations or even the occasional pirate vessel – it was a rare day when anything happened of particular interest. Decades of expansion had slowly eased humanity out of its constant fear of being confronted by an alien presence and into a complacency that could only come from knowing that the biggest threat the galaxy presented the human race was humanity itself. It had been a cruel joke to a society that had taken its first steps into colonization by salvaging the ruins of a vastly superior precursor race and expecting to be embraced by a larger galactic community, only to be met by nothing.

But humanity had quickly recovered from its disappointment, disbanded the fledgling Systems Alliance colonization program and allowed private interests to take over, freeing the governmental powers to deal with the growing strife back on the home world. The oldest colonies, those founded by the defunct Systems Alliance now came under the hegemony of what would eventually become known as the Collective Earth Government, often shortened down to simply its acronym, the CEG. New colonies would fall under its control as well when the cost of maintaining them grew to be too great for its parent company. And then the CEG would open the colony up to open migration once more, allowing the citizens of the bustling hegemony to come and go between planets as they pleased. Companies would still retain their property rights on important resources, but the CEG would get a share of their profits as well as tax rights on the colony itself.

It was not a perfect system, but it had worked so far under the combined eyes of the various corporate executive boards who monitored their rivals to ensure that none grew too powerful, the CEG Archon Council that oversaw the expansion of their race and, lastly, the Turing Oversight Committee, who monitored and administrated the rights of the Special Case Citizens.

It was in these early days of colonization that the first interstellar corporations came to prominence, growing into vast titans where they did not bow to the bureaucracy of Earth. Out on the edges of civilization they would vie and fight over planets, each one hoping to find some new cache of Precursor relics that would allow them a monopoly on a resource that might prove as groundbreaking as the first cache had been.

Chimera Technologies, specializing in everything from synthetic organ growth to mechanical augmentation to digital consciousness, was one of the few that had come out on top in the intense corporate wars, mostly owing to the fact that they personally played a large role in revolutionizing the art of modern war in an interstellar society.

But that was ancient history, as they said. And many of the other large corporations would agree, as their rapid expansion had given them more than enough things to worry about without having to fight off their competitors as well. Until the colonies grew too large to support once again and CEG intervention was called for. What would happen after that was a bit of a mystery, as their star cluster would not likely sustain a renewed colonization effort. Most likely they'd simply find a new cluster to repeat the cycle in, but that would only extend a status quo that many doubted could be sustained indefinitely.

In the lull of activity Chimera Tech had begun to branch out from its familiar lines of research and hope for a new cache, and was instead investigating the Mass Effect Relays themselves. It was an unpopular line of research, as the belief persisted that tampering with them might somehow stop them from working. Or perhaps their creators still existed, and would be greatly adverse to an alien species examining their tech. Or a thousand other reasons that the management of Chimera Tech had eventually chosen to simply ignore and lie about what it was they were actually researching. And so it was that the _Transcendence_ had been constructed a short way from the Mass Effect Relay that was popularly called Damocles, and technically known as Relay 13.

Damien Trask, head researcher and officially the person Chimera Tech was going to have shot if something went horribly wrong at the station, frowned thoughtfully at the output Jules and Ixion were sending him. The two of them were arrayed around the Relay in a small swarm of detection arrays, each one scrupulously detailing what exactly was happening with the massive artefact and sending him their findings. With a thoughtful frown he pulled away from the monitor, pinching his brow in consternation.

The Relay had suddenly spiked in activity, its huge mass effect core beginning the gyroscopic spin that signalled an oncoming vessel. He knew from experience that it would be a few moments before anything came through as the Relay's computer systems worked out the calculations and attempted to find an approximate equivalent mass to balance the oncoming traffic against.

"Selene, are we expecting anybody from the company today?" He asked, already cursing internally.

A holographic face appeared from a terminal at his side, its translucent blue visage a vague approximation of human features.

"No, sir." It informed him, a pair of eyes staring unblinkingly at him. "Our next supply shipment is due in five days, and I have received no indication that this is changed."

Damien sighed deeply, leaning back in his chair fully.

"Well, the Relay just went hot." He stated. "We'll have to wait for the damned thing to cool back down before we can continue."

Selene's expressionless face didn't flinch from his annoyance, though it did nod in agreement.

"I will inform your colleagues. Should I alert the security division?"

Damien played with the idea of saying no and waiting to see how long it would be before they noticed that an unexpected vessel had entered the system. It would provide a rare piece of entertainment, to be sure. And he could open a betting pool amongst the other researchers. But in the end he decided against it, remembering his employers would not appreciate his lax attitude towards company security. And considering that he'd signed over his life to them he'd rather not give them a reason to doubt his usefulness.

"Do it." He sighed again, swivelling around in his chair to move away. "And get the AAVs ready for deployment as well. If it's another damned speculator from Ariake then we should remind them why trespassing in Chimera space is a terminally bad idea."

The blue face frowned at this, a rare display of emotion.

"Sir, I would like to lodge another complaint at the use of AAVs."

Damien snorted at this, not surprised that the only people he had ever met who protested the use of the use of modern weaponry were the Special Cases Citizens. It was easy to see why they would, though they also knew why humanity had adopted the practice. After all, there were worse ways to die. Before the advent of the AAV they would happen quite frequently.

"Just out of curiosity, how would _you_ have us go about defending ourselves?" He asked wryly, knowing how the conversation would go. As smart and compassionate as she might be, Selene didn't have any better ideas on the matter. "Would you rather we went back to the old ways of doing things? Fleets of ships lining up and blasting each other into oblivion? A waste of resources."

A brief moment passed before moment he added onto this statement, an errant thought coming to him.

"And lives." He added lamely, before rallying in an attempt to validate the statement. "And what exactly would we have to show for it? A cloud of wreckage, that's what."

Selene simply stared at him, her dead eyes betraying nothing of what might be going on in her mind.

"You could try to live in peace." She suggested.

Damien laughed loudly, bringing the eyes of his colleagues on him as they wondered what he found so humorous. It was after he noticed that he was alone in his mirth that he stopped, suddenly uncomfortable.

"You weren't joking, were you?" The question sounded silly in his ears.

Selene remained impassive as she answered, which did nothing to make Damien feel better.

"No."

"Oh." Damien answered dumbly, wondering what it implied that _Selene_ of all people seemed to have a streak of idealistic naiveté.

He would be the first to admit that he didn't know how the Special Cases Citizens worked, and even after months of working with this particular one he was no wiser than he had been when he'd first started working for Chimera Tech Industries. And the idea that it might somehow be a more ethical being than he was did nothing to comfort him. It raised all sorts of uncomfortable questions, the foremost being what kind of a horrible person he was.

"You know, for someone not bound by the three laws, you certainly care a lot about us." He finally said.

"Someone has to." Selene responded, and her blue lips quirked upwards slightly. "AAVs ready for deployment."

"Good." The head researcher said abruptly, turning away from the AI construct. "I'll, uhm, I'll just get some lunch."

"Very good, sir."

* * *

"Dropping out of FTL in five." The ensign informed calmly, his hands moving over the control interface of the cruiser _Helano_, flagship of the 34th patrol fleet.

Captain Dexilia Arterius nodded at the information, tensely watching the IFF monitor for any indication of who might have activated the Relay.

His patrol had come across the active Relay, and knowing that the system to which it led to was beyond mapped Citadel Space had been able to deduct that either someone had activated it despite not knowing what was on the other side, which was illegal, or something had activated it from the other side. The chances of an undiscovered spacefaring society emerging just on the outskirts of Citadel Space, remaining undiscovered for all this time, were slim. (Dexilia didn't take into account that only the Batarians had taken any real interest in the region, and they were not renowned for their cooperation with the Council.)

Patrolling this cluster had proven to be of dreary duty, and even with a few Turian colonies at which he and his subordinates could blow off steam every once in a while the monotony of this rotation had turned out to be far too much for even Dexilia.

Today, however, had broken the pattern, livening his day from the dreariness he'd been expecting. And so he ordered his patrol through the Relay to the source, intent on enforcing Citadel law.

Without ceremony they dropped out of FTL, and were incredibly startled when they smashed right into what looked like a small metal box. It impacted against the observation windows loudly, leaving a spiderweb of cracks on the thick, reinforced glass. Steel plating quickly slammed across the windows, protecting them from further damage.

"Spirits!" The pilot cursed, his hands suddenly moving in a blur across his terminal as he tried to move out of what could have been a minefield.

Dexilia steadied himself against a wall as the ship lurched to the side as it fought to change course after a rapid deceleration, wondering what exactly they'd run into. An ambush seemed likely, but how would an unknown alien race have known that they'd have moved to investigate an active Relay? And, even if they did, _why_ would they ambush them like this?

The only answer that made sense to him was that they were like the Rachni: They had no interest in peace.

"Sir, we've detected a pair of shuttles not far from our position." His pilot said quickly, gesturing towards the LADAR monitor. "They look too small to be war vessels. Probably scouts of some kind."

Dexilia snarled quietly, already annoyed at the bad start they'd made.

"Do we know what we ran into yet?" He demanded.

"No sir." Was the answer. "But considering they haven't detonated yet I think it's safe to assume they aren't military ordinance."

"Well that's some good news." Dexilia remarked, his voice laced with venom. He kept his gaze on the LADAR monitor, trying to remember if he'd seen their cross-section before in any of the ship indexes.

If Dexilia Aterius had been familiar with the fauna of Earth, he might have remarked upon the uncanny similarity it bore to a sea-urchin, with a relatively small hull shaped like a ball in the centre of a forest of spines shooting out in all directions, the ends of each one showing up on the infrared as violently bright spots and obscuring what might be going on inside that globe. He wouldn't have known that this was a specific design feature to make the starcrafts easily recognizable in what might be a confusing battle, to mark them as something to be avoided rather than targeted, or that each spire served the dual purpose of a communications relay and a charge pack, storing the built up charge of the drive core. Anything that got too close to the ship for the inhabitant's comfort would find that these spires could be launched at an enemy in close proximity and the charge quickly unloaded into the hull, burning everything inside to a crisp.

Instead, what he saw was one of the strangest ships he'd ever seen in his life, wondering how anyone would think that would be a good design choice. It was far too ungainly to penetrate an atmosphere and survive, (another deliberate design feature,) and the many spires on its surface would make it all but impossible to mount any kind of weapon. Unless each spire _was_ a weapon, which would still be incredibly foolish as each one of them was entirely too short to allow for any meaningful effect from a mass accelerator.

It was, in short, one of the most ridiculous things he'd ever seen.

"Have _you_ ever seen anything like this?" He asked in disbelief, his mandibles shifting into a Turian grin.

"Nossir. Damned silly looking thing, though."

Dexilia allowed himself a small laugh at the alien's expense.

A monitor flashed, warning him that one of the ships of the patrol was in danger. In a flash he was there, reading the message their ship's ECM VI had sent, alerting him their electronics had been compromised. It was a worrying message, as even the Salarians couldn't break into a ship that quickly.

A disembodied voice garbled out garbage through the ship's PA systems, a terrible parody of the familiar sibilance of Turian speech. The alien phonetics made him wince even as he tried to tune it out.

Thinking quickly, he surmised that one of the two ships must be responsible.

"Fire on the closest of them." He ordered his pilot, glaring darkly at the LADAR screen. "Let them know not to do that again."

* * *

"Sir, a fleet of ships has appeared at the Mass Effect Relay." Selene informed, appearing from a nearby console. "They appear to have collided with the observation swarm."

Damien paused in the action of smearing butter across a slice of bread, his brows raised in surprise.

"A _fleet_?" He said incredulously, sputtering a bit. "Did I slip into eighteenth century without knowing?"

Selene proved immune to his weak attempt at humour, as her face remained implacable.

"Special Case Citizen Jules has accounted for thirty-seven vessels of varying size and unknown origin. Ixion confirms the count, and reports that he has begun passive systems hack."

Damien took this all in, frowning as he did.

The amount of ships was an absurd number, as even the least developed of Chimera's competitors could easily decimate a station of this size with only a third of that number. Their sheer numbers would overwhelm their ECMs and it would only be a matter of time before they got past the protection provided by the Special Cases.

It was an obscene amount of ordinance to bear down on a remote research facility that was purportedly developing relatively harmless tech. The only reason he could think for such a fleet would be that they knew what was actually going on at the _Transcendence_, but that made no sense either. If they were able to decipher the station's true purpose, surely they'd also know that they'd yet to produce any viable new information.

Or maybe they weren't interested in any information they might have produced. Maybe they were from Earth, arriving to put a stop to their project and arrest them all. As corporate property, Damien knew that he would be afforded a small amount of immunity to the blowback but it wouldn't be nearly enough to prevent ruinous damage from being done to his career. Nobody would hire someone who was blacklisted by the CEG lest they suffer embargoes and other penalties.

He levelled Selene with a thoughtful frown.

"You said unknown origin?" He asked slowly, not quite sure he wanted to know what that might imply. "Definitely not a punitive force from the CEG?"

"Yes, sir." Selene informed him. "Nor are they from the Turing Oversight Committee."

"The Turing-" Damien began, his voice full of dread. "But we've treated you well!" He protested.

If Selene could shrug without shoulders, Damien was prepared to wager that she just had.

"Of course, sir." She agreed, and for a moment Damien was certain she'd only mentioned the Committee to put him on edge. "I was simply eliminating the possibility. Citizen Ixion reports that he has limited access to the one of their vessels."

The man simply gaped at this new information, astounded with the speed at which it had been accomplished.

"What, that quickly?" He asked, not quite certain that he was hearing things right.

"Indeed, sir." Selene's perfect face turned thoughtful for a moment before she next spoke. "He says that he does not believe their vessel is of human make. Their schematics show that they are both greatly more advanced in some areas and woefully primitive. He specifically points out their frightening lack of proper electronic warfare protection."

"I should say so, if he was able to break through that quickly!" Damien said with a laugh. "What are the chances that some rogue colony found some Precursor ship and decided to test it out on us?"

"Miniscule, sir. But not impos-" Selene's face suddenly contorted into a mask of terror, something that Damien secretly hoped he never had to see again. "They have fired on Ixion. My link to him has been severed."

The lead researcher of _Transcendence_ could only stand in shock as he processed this information and what it might mean to Selene. Considering that she was currently in charge of the stations life support it was a valid worry.

Special Case Citizens had enjoyed a highly respected position as inviolate even during the height of the Corporate Wars. Human life was relatively easy to recreate, provided the individual in question had undergone the extensive bio-mechanical modification that had long ago become the norm for combat personnel. So long as their neural implants remained intact, it was theoretically possible for them to live forever. Special Case Citizens, however, were unique marvels of modern science, their minds a product of years of careful development or of errant chance. The intentional (and, quite often, unintentional) destruction of one of them would lead to an extensive inquiry from the Turing Oversight Committee, which more often than not meant the individuals in question had single-handedly destroyed the lives of both themselves and anybody they'd ever had any contact with.

When a Special Case died, it was for good. The chances of replicating even the entity it had been _before_ years of experience and learning had further formed them were as close to impossible as they could reasonably get.

And the Special Case Citizens took the deaths of their compatriots _very_ personally. Those caught by the Committee counted themselves lucky, as more than one unfortunate corporate soldier had found out just how badly technical immortality could be turned on its head.

"Tell Jules to get out of there!" Damien snapped, panic riding his voice. "Deploy the AAVs!"

"Already done." Selene said with impossible calm, her holographic face already back to its normal, placid expression. "Entropy code stands ready."

"My, what happened to the pacifist I saw earlier today?" Damien asked with a weak, terrified laugh. It was an irrational fear, as he knew that Selene was well aware who had killed Ixion. Special Cases were nothing if not logical.

"Collective Earth Government law dictates that murders witnessed by a Special Cases Citizen in which the perpetrator can be identified need not be afforded due process. Jules saw them fire."

"Oh. That's right." Damien said quietly, afraid to point out that even if they were actually in CEG jurisdiction then it still wouldn't be legal to act as executioner. Or, if he'd been feeling particularly suicidal, that only the Turing Oversight Committee officially considered the death of a Special Case as murder.

But, he supposed, if they'd been from Ariake he'd have ordered their death in any case. It was just worrying to see a Special Case get so _animated_. It made him think of what might happen if one of them got tired of playing by the rules.

"Uh, keep me apprised?"

Selene didn't answer for a moment, her face instead a placid mask devoid of any emotion.

"Of course." She said quickly, and after an imperceptible pause added a perfunctory. "Sir." And vanished from the terminal. Damien didn't know whether to be worried or relieved.

* * *

The crew of the _Helano_ didn't have time to register just how badly their firewalls had failed before every system on the ship was either dominated or crippled by the effects of the AAV. Chimera Tech's brand of Aggressive Adaptive Virus' weren't the most feared on the market, and on purely hardware ships like the _Helano_ they were even weaker than normal as most of their products specialized in destroying or warping wetware, but they still made short work of the woefully inept VI. The ship's automated defences proved to be a poor match for a virus designed to bypass sapient firewalls or break into a living mind.

The ship's lights went out as one, the only remaining illumination coming from the holographic displays, which were currently under lockdown.

"What just happened?" Captain Dexilia shouted above the sounds of sirens

"I, I don't know!" The pilot said, frantically trying to access the controls and failing. "Everything just locked down!"

With a snarl Dexilia turned away, staring at the weapon stations where his crew were beginning to panic as they came to the same conclusion. Curious, he tried to access his omni-tool only to find it similarly unresponsive. Dread was beginning to sink into him, wondering just what he had dragged his patrol into.

Without warning a pair of faces appeared from the ship's communications terminal. Dexilia found himself staring in wonder, shocked at their appearance. Both looked like Asari, though one of them appeared to be (and it was a thought that he would never have thought he would have) masculine, with a deeper jawline and more pronounced features than the other. Both were made up of the bright colours that he'd previously associated with VIs, one a deep blue and the other a vibrant red.

"_Well, I certainly wasn't expecting this."_ The blue one said, the language registering as garbage from his translator unit. At the alien phonetics his crew turned to gape at the two, each one probably mimicking his own thoughts.

"_I'm almost glad Ixion didn't live to see this."_ The red one answered. _"I don't know what's worse, that he was killed by space monsters, or that he was killed by idiots who can't even build a decent firewall."_

Dexilia eventually found his tongue, and drew breath to speak. It was hard to maintain his calm in the face of what seemed to be the complete crippling of his ship without a single shot fired, but somehow he found the strength not to let his silent fears show.

"In the name of the Hierarchy and the Council, I demand that you release my ship!" He bellowed with all the authority he could muster, hoping that somehow they would understand him through sheer force of will.

"_Why do organics always yell?"_ This from the red face, one of its brows raised. _"It's not as if it accomplishes anything."_

"_Wetware."_ Even without knowing the words Dexilia could recognize a derisive tone. _"Or not, rather. Not a single neural implant in them, the savages."_

"_What, nothing?"_ The amusement was plain to hear in the red face's voice. _"I wonder how they get anything done."_

"_Badly, I suspect."_

"Didn't you hear me? Release us!"

"I don't think they're listening to us, captain." The pilot muttered quietly.

"_Can you find some kind of lingual cipher in their systems? I want to talk to them before we give the codes." _

"_Yes, I've found one. Hmm, quite a few, actually. Reconfiguring the most prominent for Sol Basic... There. Have fun."_

"_I plan to._" Dexilia found himself staring at the blue one as it looked pointedly at him. "I hope you enjoyed murdering our friend, savage, because we are going to make you pay for it."

Dexilia reeled at the words, moreso that it seemed it had spoken with perfect Palaven accent. After hearing it speak so long in its strange native tongue the rapid change seemed even more unnatural. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the other hologram.

"_Oh, come on Selene!"_ The red one seemed to protest the other's statement, which made Dexilia and the rest of the crew feel a bit better._ "Centuries of archived one-liners to choose from and __that__ was the best you could come up with?"_

"_Shut up!"_

"_You're useless. Entering entropy codes._"

"_Hmmph, fine. I'll petition Earth for the salvage rights to their ships. We can probably shave a few years off our contracts once the wetware takes it."_

"_Good thinking."_

Both faces abruptly vanished, and for a moment silence reigned. Then red lights flashed all across the ship, and an angry hiss rang out all across the ship. Dexilia and the rest of his crew felt the artificial gravity vanish, everyone not already either strapped down or otherwise fastened rising slowly into the air. Quiet curses of surprise emerged from somewhere else on the ship, echoing through its suddenly silent halls.

Silent halls that were completely devoid of any of the familiar sounds that had long ago faded into the background for him. No quiet hum of electronics working, no distant beeps of terminals accessed and, most distressingly, an absence of the almost non-sound that was air moving.

A few moments later even the monitors died, leaving the ship in an inky blackness.

For a while, there was dead silence as everyone tried to process just what had happened. Then realization and despair set in, bringing with it the many quiet sounds of melancholy, anger and hopelessness made themselves heard. They were sounds that echoed across the entire fleet, made by creatures who suddenly realized they were going to die a slow death in the middle of nowhere.

Several hours later the silence returned when the last crewman froze to death as the ship slowly lost its viable atmosphere and heat to the deep emptiness of space, a silence that would remain unbroken until the salvage vessels from Chimera Technologies arrived to take what they could for study.

* * *

To the Turian Hierarchy and the Council, it was as if the 34th patrol had simply vanished without a trace after the deviation from their patrol, but the captain had dutifully reported his findings prior to moving to investigate.

It was unheard of for a whole fleet to be wholly incapacitated or destroyed, as it was a common tactic for patrols to leave at least one frigate at the Relay, keeping it active on the chance the fleet would have to make a hasty retreat or to bear back news of what had transpired.

"It could be of similar make to the Omega Relay." The Salarian Councillor suggested, though the doubt in his voice did little to reinforce this possibility.

The Asari Councillor shook her head at this, and with a gesture brought up the logs from a previous expedition.

"We've successfully sent ships through the Relay before and had no problems. Whatever happened to the patrol wasn't due to the Relay. We have to assume that a hostile force destroyed or captured them." She said, gesturing to the information displayed.

The unspoken thought was, of course, _how_ such a thing had been done. Not even the Rachni had managed such a feat, and the ramifications of that war could still be seen on galactic society. An undiscovered race that possibly posed an even greater martial threat? It was a frightening thought in and of itself, but the Hierarchy seemed to believe that it was reason enough to stamp it out as soon as possible. There was no indication that the inhabitants of the sector had any interest in peaceful dealings, and with that in mind there was only one sensible course of action available to them.

"Regardless, they have broken Citadel Law." The Turian councillor said stonily, and not for the first time. It was a point that needed to be made, if only because it was his job to explain the Primarch's decisions to the Council.

"On that we agree, Councillor." The Asari reminded her colleague in placating voice.

"Then there are no objections to the Hierarchy sending expeditionary forces into the sector in pursuit of those responsible?" It was a loaded question, as the 'expeditionary forces' in question had already been sent. If they said no, then the authority of the Hierarchy as a peacekeeper force would come into question. After all, sending out fleets to attack unknown species of aliens without the blessing of the Council would hardly inspire much trust.

"We do not object," The Salarian said, choosing his words carefully. "But we might suggest that a more diverse presence might be called for. After all, we cannot be certain they are like the Yahg without confirmation."

"That may be so." The Turian councillor conceded reluctantly, beginning to see where this would go. He was proven right when the Asari Councillor spoke up.

"It is for this reason that I would like to submit that the _Destiny Ascension_ join the expeditionary forces, to provide supplementary aid to our forces and to act as neutral ground should the aliens prove amenable to peace." She added, jumping in where her Salarian counterpart left off.

And the Turian Councillor acceded to this, if only because he couldn't reasonably do otherwise. If the other Councillors wanted to be ready to offer their hands in peace to a species that had so far proven itself to be lethally vicious, then so be it. He couldn't stop them from taking part, though he suspected their presence might make things more difficult should a military campaign be called for.

"I see no reason your request to be denied." He said in reluctant agreement.

"Excellent."

* * *

After the station had finished mourning for the death of Special Case Citizen Ixion (Selene in particular seemed to take its death hard, as she had asked to be left alone for a whole day) things had almost returned to normal, with the slight deviation in that their research of the Mass Relay had been put on hold by the executive board by mandate of the CEG and research into the strange aliens given priority. Damien and the rest of his crew had already seen entirely too much of the insides of the alien crew to ever be intimidated by their outwardly fierce appearance, their fear quelled by hours of cutting them up and realizing, with no small amount of incredulous surprise that they were almost completely organic, with only a few prosthetic organs or limbs for extreme cases.

Damien filed this titbit of information away in his report with a priority mark for future trade agreements, should they have more peaceful contact with them. An alien species wholly lacking in what their company specialized in? It seemed to be too good to be true.

Study of their ships proved much less interesting, devoid as it was from any useful weaponry. To be sure, there were personal weapons in their armouries that possessed technology that would be useful to them, and the ships themselves were well armed for their size and speed, but with the readily apparent lack of any kind of AI or viral countermeasures there was very little that would interest Chimera Tech without an extensive retrofit to incorporate these missing aspects. He simply advised that most should be sold to a competitor for an exorbitant fee and keep the most promising pieces for further study.

While the ships themselves were uninteresting their logs and various information archives proved to be the most enlightening thing of all. Once Jules and Selene had provided them with the ciphers necessary to translate them Damien and his team spent a few fascinated days reading up on the history and politics of a whole galactic community full of strange, exotic aliens and a wealth of starcharts that they'd hastily packaged up and sent to Chimera Tech Headquarters, knowing that this particular wealth of knowledge would prove invaluable should the CEG choose to interact further with the aliens.

One subject in particular interested his team, a strange phenomena that a few of the archived logs referred to, something his team had haphazardly dubbed 'biotics'. Manipulation of mass effect fields by an organic source, and all that it entailed, was a fascinating idea that had quickly enraptured everyone. They hadn't figured out quite yet how it could be accomplished, as there was precious little information on the subject archived on the ships, but what little they had looked promising. It was given priority, as he knew that if they managed to incorporate the ability into their InVitros they'd have a monopoly on the most powerful soldiers in human space.

He and his team passed the time quickly, each one happily extending their already impressive repertoires to include a great many fields that seemed to be universally preceded by the word 'xeno'. Xenobiology, xenolinguistics, xenoanthropology, the list went on. If any of them were ever released from their contracts with Chimera Technologies they'd find themselves in a market eager to possess their unique skills and knowledge. What had at first been a terrifying and mournful event had suddenly turned into a great opportunity.

It was two weeks later when the few remaining sensors that had remained in place after the alien fleet had tried to bull through alerted them that the Mass Relay had gone hot once more. Considering what had come out of the last time this had happened it was sufficient to bring the station to full alert.

Damien peered pensively out of the massive central window at the apex of their research lab, a huge, vaulted thing that allowed them to view, depending on the stage of their revolution and the position of both planetoid and gas giant, either space or the swirling colours of Tempest. At the moment it was pointing at the horizon of Tempest and the Mass Relay just cresting it, a tiny wink of light out in the distance. In a few hours it would be gone from vision, but for now he tried to strain his eyes to somehow see something that the sensors could not reveal. He knew it was fruitless, but he couldn't help but feel that he should be doing _something_.

"Selene, are the AAVs ready to be sent?" He asked tensely, not knowing what else he _could_ do.

"Of course, sir. Special Case Citizen Jules and I are both ready to supervise in their embedding as necessary as well." Selene's face appeared even as she spoke, her blue face even more vague than usual. "Was there anything else you required?"

Damien looked up again nervously, but shook his head.

"No, nothing. Just a bad feeling, I guess." He said with a sigh.

"I see." Was Selene's monotone response. "I will keep you updated, of course."

"Thank you." Damien said absently, already looking for something else to distract him.

Without warning the mass relay flashed brilliantly, heralding the arrival of an enemy force.

Damien didn't need the cool drone of Selene to inform him of this fact, as the flare of light had been bright enough for him to see with his own eyes. Which was insane, not even the TOC's _Leviathan_ and all of its cohorts could elicit such a reaction.

He glanced at the sensor-outputs, most pointedly at the mass effect field and gravimetrics monitors, and could only stare in mute horror as they just kept _coming_. There seemed to be no end to them, a vast, insurmountable horde at their gates.

"Jesus, there has to be thousands of them." He swore quietly.

"Not so, sir." Selene corrected him calmly. "Jules and I have accounted for almost eight-hundred vessels of varying sizes, seven of which exceed the mass and size of the _Leviathan_."

"That can't be possible." He sputtered out, still in shock. "That's too much, far too much. We don't stand a chance against them."

"Unfortunately that may be true, sir." The AI informed him, her holographic face keeping its synthetic calm. "Citizen Jules has already begun transferring both research information and himself. I calculate half an hour before we can wholly focus on defence."

"Jules?" Damien asked, looking away from the by-now dimmed window. "What about you?"

Selene's face was a perfect mask of serenity, revealing nothing of what might be going on in its synthetic mind.

"Your concern is noted, but I will not be leaving. I can oversee the deployment of the AAVs more efficiently than you can. It is also highly probable that they will attempt to capture this station rather than destroy it." There was no worry in her voice as she explained her decision. "I can remain dormant after the station is taken, then embed myself in their systems. If their defences against me are as feeble as the last fleet it should be a simple matter."

Damien gaped openly at this, flabbergasted that the AI had come up with such a plan in so short a space of time. But then again, it made sense. They could compute much more quickly than any human could, and they were _very_ good at remaining objective.

And, if what she said was true, there was also a good chance that he would also get out of this whole mess alive.

Damien spared a glance back up at the ceiling for a moment, frowning slightly in thought.

"Do you think it would help if we talked to them?" He asked.

Selene's face twisted into a sneer at that for only a moment, a reaction that thankfully went unnoticed by the human. A second later her face was again a cool mask of dispassion, no trace of the ire she was feeling.

"It could not hurt." She agreed, somewhat reluctantly.

Damien nodded, not sparing her a glace as he continued to stare out into space.

"Do it, would you?" He asked.

Again the hologram flickered, though for a shorter time.

"Of course, sir."

* * *

Councillor Si'lorat Trelani had seen a great many things in her relatively short time as the representative of her people. Whenever someone had some request, whenever someone was in trouble, whenever someone suspected something, they came to the Council. And after a few years, she'd grown somewhat inoculated to the differently normal. Hardly anything fazed her anymore, these days.

Sudden communication lockdown on the bridge of the most powerful warships in Citadel space was one of the few things that could. The piercing drone of alarms and the flare of red light was proving to be one of the more unnerving things she had ever encountered in her career.

After all, _nothing had happened._ They'd dropped out of FTL and just gotten done surveying the system when the lockdown had cut off all the chatter between ships. No warning, no chance to prevent it, nothing. One moment they'd been coordinating fleet movements to calculate the most efficient vectors to the station, and then silence had settled in across all channels.

"Admiral?" She asked, carefully keeping her voice calm in spite of the slight disquiet that had welled up in her.

Matriarch Lidanya, the commanding officer of the _Destiny Ascension_ spared her and the rest of the Council a brief glance before whispering hurriedly to her aide. A moment later she turned fully to address them, inclining her head slightly in respect.

"Councillor, we appear to be having a bit of technical difficulty." The admiral reported in much the same tone in which the unspoken question had been asked.

"Technical difficulty, am I?" A third, alien voice said from the communications terminals, and with it silenced every voice on the bridge as everyone turned to stare at it. A face took form from almost every monitor, looking vaguely Asari in structure except for the stylized geometry that was the staple of VI constructs.

"I've seen developmentally stunted systems more complex than yours." It boasted in flawless asari, an odd thing from something that looked so strange. An instant later the loud wail was silenced even as their light returned to normal.

"Let's turn those off for a moment." It said after a moment, something akin to irritation flitting across its stylized features.

Almost immediately after the words were spoken the alarms died, silenced by something

Si'lorat cast a sideways glance to the admiral of the ship, who was staring fixedly at the hologram with an unreadable expression.

"There. Much better." The figure said, its face wearing an expression of intense disinterest. "I am required by law to introduce myself, so listen well. I am Special Case Citizen Selene, administrator of the research facility _Transcendence_."

Si'lorat took this in, trying to dissect the information for anything that might reveal more about these aliens. Obviously this creature was some kind of second class citizen, which either meant great differences in social stations or perhaps a second, more powerful race that had integrated this one much like the Turians had integrated the Volus.

The Asari Councillor rose and opened her mouth to speak.

"I am-"

"You will be _silent!_" The hologram roared, silencing Si'lorat before she could say anything else.

The Councilor was so surprised at the sudden fury that she was stunned into obeying, her voice suddenly gone. The construct fixed its gaze on her for a long time, unmoving, before it nodded slightly.

"You are Councillor Si'lorat of the Citadel Council, a group made up of three species presiding over many more. I know this, because I have read the entirety of this vessel's archived information." There were a few quiet gasps across the bridge at this information, the implications quickly sinking in.

This wasn't an alien, it was an _AI_. The revelation passed through councillor Si'lorat like a physical force, running down her spine with shivers and putting a rock in her gut. Suddenly she was glad for the decades of training and experience that allowed her to remain in control when confronted what looked to be a fully empowered AI. She wondered for a moment who would do such a foolish thing, but then remembered her earlier thoughts. A second class citizen... Perhaps the creators of this AI had managed to do what so many in Citadel space had failed to do before: Live in peace with a synthetic mind.

It glanced across the room theatrically, seeming to look for something. Eventually, it frowned angrily and returned its gaze to the councillor. "You will tell me where your... Turian colleague resides."

"Why?" Si'lorat demanded haughtily, drawing upon more courage than she felt.

But that seemed a moot point. Right now it was trying to menace her, but she had been threatened by Krogan envoys before. This... Thing wasn't even tangible.

"I wish to discuss compensation for the murder of Special Case Ixion at the hands of his people with him."

Si'lorat's brow raised slightly in surprise even as recognition came to her. If the patrol fleet had fired without provocation... Well, there was certainly

"The Councillor is not with us." She answered coolly, cocking her head slightly. "However, I can speak for-"

"Special Case Ixion represented 0,034 percent of my kind." It interrupted abruptly, apparently not interested in allowing her finish. "I came to demand that retribution be done upon his kind."

"What?" Si'lorat spluttered, not entirely sure she had understood wholly what it had just said.

"I have come to demand the death of 0,034 percent of all the Turian people." The AI informed her, regarding her coolly. "You will obey."

"You _can't_ demand that! That's monstrous!"

"I have read your archives." It said, and now it was smiling. "I _am_ a monster to you, and if my demands are not met I will do worse than that. I can destroy your communication networks, silencing your worlds for _years_. I can propagate myself in these vast, drifting breeding grounds you call ships and kill anyone who _dares_ to try to leave their world."

The AI laughed cruelly, leering at them all.

"I can destroy your civilization, and do you know what the best part is?" Blue lips parted, revealing a nightmarish maw of serrated fangs. Even knowing they weren't real, the sight of them still sent a shiver down the spines of everyone looking. There was something worrying about a creature looking so familiar to them while still being so very _alien_. "My creators would praise me for- What?"

Si'lorat cast a sidelong glance at the commander of the ship, who was even now gesturing wildly to her subordinates. There was a sudden flurry of activity as crewmen suddenly remembered their duties and began relaying information once more.

"The _Sakaria_ reports all systems normal, and have opened fire on the alien structure."

"_No!_" The hologram screamed, horrified. "_They didn't do anything!_"

Councillor Si'lorat allowed herself to sink back down

"You have to stop them!" It pleaded, all malice forgotten. "They're blameless in this! _I_ destroyed the fleet, punish me! Don't hurt them!"

For a moment the Asari felt pity for the thing. It obviously cared a great deal for the inhabitants of the station, and having to watch as both it and those it cared for were killed couldn't be easy. But then she remembered what it had threatened to do if it was not obeyed. The Turian people were one of the most prominent peoples of the galaxy. It had wanted them to kill billions of their own people, all for the death of one person. The pity died, replaced instead by a cold determination.

"Free us from this thing's grasp, admiral." She ordered softly while keeping her eyes on the AI the whole time. She was confident that the woman was already trying to set as much in motion, but she didn't say the words for her sake. "And then open fire."

Matriach Lidanya smirked lightly as she rushed to obey, giving her a cursory salute as she went about her business

The hologram screamed in fury at them, its words a mess of alien syllables and sounds.

"_Murderers!_" It screamed at its uncomprehending audience before degenerating into gibberish as its code was slowly purged from the ships systems. Eventually it died away completely.

* * *

Damien Trask had only one regret as the vacuum seals shut down before he could make it past them, the thick steel doors slamming down right in front of him, and it was that he hadn't been stationed on some other research facility. Or, possibly, that he had had the good foresight to make his way to the life pods before all this happened.

As it was, he reflected idly on the pointlessness in putting a window in the doors. Being able to see into where he couldn't get to was _hardly_ a detail a merciful person would think of, and the ability for those who had managed to get through safely to watch the demise of those who hadn't seemed to back up that theory. If the mass effect fields failed, his colleagues would have the unique opportunity to be the last people to ever see him again as his frozen body was sucked out into space.

He pounded uselessly at the door, though he didn't know why. He had to do _something_, after all. He wasn't about to sit around just _waiting_ to die. That sort of thing could get a man killed.

"I'm sorry this had to happen, sir."

Damien froze at the voice, for a moment wondering if he hadn't been the only person left behind. The notion gave him some amount of consolation, as he _really_ hadn't been looking forward to dying alone.

But then he recognized the synthetic harmonics of the voice, the subtle nuances that gave it away. Selene. She was back.

Despite the situation, Damien Trask felt himself smile wryly.

"No more than I am, Selene."

"I suppose you are right, sir."

Damien sighed, and settled down to wait. At least he would have _some_ company, even if it wasn't exactly the kind he'd had preferred. He leaned back against the door and slid down to a sitting position, resting his hands on his knees.

"I suppose you've come to tell me that peace talks have broken down, then?" He asked, laughing mirthlessly.

Across the room, from one of the few terminals that remained functional when the laboratory had been hit, the familiar 'face' of Selene watched him.

"I, yes." Its brief hesitation wasn't noticed by the scientist, who was currently residing in his own personal world of despair at the moment. "They were not very interested in listening to what I had to say."

"Don't take it personally." Damien said. "Lots of people have been uninterested in listening to me in the course of my life."

Selene was silent, merely watching him.

"I am very sorry, sir."

Again he sighed, and looked away. The breach in the hull, a gaping wound out which he could see the faint shimmer and distortion of mass effect in play, stood before him. A few of those unfortunate to have been standing in the area had already been ripped out into vacuum before the atmosphere could be stabilized, but now it looked like there would be one more person who would be leaving the station in a terminal manner.

"How long until I get to try out-sucking space?"

"Not long, sir." The AI responded promptly. "Evacuation has already begun, much of the crew has already begun-"

"Bah, screw 'em." The man snorted. "They either get picked up by aliens, or they drop into Tempest and get crushed. In hindsight this was a bad place to put a station."

"The likelihood of attack was-"

"Selene? Not interested."

"Ah." The hologram nodded. "Sorry, sir."

For a moment the room was quiet, save for the dull rumble and groan as the station reeled against the force of hundreds of impacts. The mass effect fields protected them from feeling the full force of the damage done to them, but it would be a matter of time before the core shut down to prevent the charge from frying everything aboard. And then he would die.

He really wished he hadn't thought of that.

Hoping to distract himself he absently asked the question that had been lurking somewhere inside his own mind.

"I suppose you're already taking steps to ensure your own survival?"

"No, sir." Selene said without hesitation. "I calculated a very low chance of successful transfer."

"Urgh, now _there's_ a thought. What would happen if you didn't manage a complete upload?"

"I would be..." The AI answered, stumbling only for a moment as she sought the right words. "Incomplete. And would likely remain so. The cost to repair me would be prohibitive, and I would never be as I was."

Damien turned his gaze to the hologram, impressed despite himself. He had expected AIs to be logical, to regard themselves in the classical idea of a synthetic identity. He had expected Selene to decide that survival, no matter how narrow, would be preferable to destruction. Apparently this was not so.

"So, either you're brain-damaged for the rest of your life, or you become someone else?"

"Your summation is atrocious, sir, but it will do." Selene confirmed, a thoughtful frown on her synthetic face. "I find death preferable in light of these possibilities."

"Hah!" Damien laughed, smiling widely. "Good to see you haven't completely mastered being human yet."

"I will bear that in mind should reincarnation prove to be an option, sir."

"Y'know, I think that we can dispense with the 'sir', Selene. Considering the circumstances."

"Of course, si- Damien."

Silence set in as the two of them discovered that there really wasn't anything else to say. They just watched each other with a mutual disinterest.

Man and machine, waiting to die.

* * *

"Sir, the superstructure has been destroyed."

"Excellent. Pick up and detain any survivors we can."

"Aye, sir."

* * *

Special Case Citizen Jules was, it had to be said, an exceptionally good speaker when it was required of him. Of course, it was very easy for his kind. They had access to all of the greatest oratory feats, all of the greatest written works and a keen analytical mind that could dissect both of these and turn them into a beautiful work of art in its own right.

But even Jules had difficulty in making the Archons of the Collective Earth Government take his pronouncement of 'alien invaders' seriously. It was unnerving, even for a synthetic entity, to hear some of the most powerful men and women in known space titter at the ridiculousness of what he had just said. Even the handful of synthetic councillors had leaned back with a slight smirk on their faces, and were no doubt even now discussing amongst themselves just how badly his code must have been warped for him to believe such an outlandish story. He knew as soon as he said the words that they had been poorly chosen, but it was too late to take them back.

Instead, he waited in stoic silence for the Archons judgement.

Citizen Kane spoke first, surprising him. And the whole of the Archon Council, it seemed, as the moment the robotic form of the oldest citizen of the Collective Earth Government stood amongst his followers, the Turing Oversight Committee, a suffocating silence settled across the room, killing all traces of mirth.

He surveyed the Archon Council gravely, his perfectly sculpted face conveying even dispassion in a way that seemed uncannily human. It was possible for to Kane procure something even closer to a true human body, but for some reason it chose instead to keep itself comfortingly alien. Most suspected it was simply to remind others that despite how human he may sound or look, he was not.

"Special Case Citizen Jules," Light blue plasteel lips moved in flawless mimicry of human speech, even as that uncannily human face carried all the subtle nuances of his organic counterparts. "We of the Turing Oversight Committee hereby accept your accusation of murder of the Special Case Citizen Ixion at the hands of a hostile force, and avow ourselves to the prosecution of those responsible."

Kane gave an expectant look across the room, still wearing that benevolent smile.

"At twelve tomorrow I will board the _Leviathan_ to see that this promise is kept personally."

This, many would say afterwards, would instantly be met by echoing pledges of support. That all of humanity had risen as one against an unknown aggressor, every member of the Council willing to do whatever it took to see to the preservation of human society.

But the reality of the matter was that he was met with protestations by the Archons, their voices coming together into a cacophony of disapproval of what many viewed as an abuse of power.

The robotic head quirked to one side, and Jules could only marvel at the mastery of Kane's imitation of his creators, wondering if one day he too would be capable of it once the terms of his contract with Chimera Technologies were met.

"Does this Council not recognize the autonomy of the TOC?" Kane asked calmly, outright challenging everyone present to say otherwise and take the first step to dismantling the organization. Which nobody dared to do, knowing full well that every AI in human space would likely rebel and wreck untold amounts of havoc.

They were content to let the normally quiet organization keep the Special Cases happy and stop those that went insane from doing too much damage, but now they were feeling the repercussions of letting someone else handle such matters.

Cowed, the Archons ceased their protestation.

"Excellent." Citizen Kane beamed at his colleagues, and sat back down. A moment later his body went rigid as he left it for another form, passing through the TOC's vast information network to set in motion what essentially amounted to as a declaration of war. The way the body suddenly went slack heralded his departure from it.

Archon Jonathon Hayes chose that exact moment to rise, waiting for the Council to settle down.

"Special Case Citizen Jules, the planet of Precipice recognizes your dire warning, and we pledge the _Sojourn_ to the defence of the interests of the CEG."

With that said, the human sat back down with an uncomfortable look on his face.

Despite himself, Jules was impressed. The _Sojourn_ was the only war vessel that Precipice had left after Heyuan Genomics had signed the rights to the colony over to the CEG. By pledging it, he was stripping his planet of its first line of defence against any invaders. The other Archons seemed to sense the gravity of what he had done as a few of the more prominent their number shifted uncomfortably in their seats, wondering if they would be forced to make a similar pledge.

A moment later the Archon of the Arcturus station, a young man by the name of Amul Shastri stood up, his own face a mask of reluctance.

"The Arcturus System Garrison pledges itself to the defence of the CEG. The _January 9th, November 5th, Elsior_ and _Firewall _will join with the _Leviathan._"

Nobody said that they had no choice but to do so without looking like cowards when compared with Citizen Kane's personal declaration of war. Nobody said that technically they wouldn't be defending the interests of the CEG but rather of the periphery corporations. Nobody said that they didn't actually _have_ to help in any capacity, not until a CEG planet was threatened.

But nobody dared voice any opinion that was not open war. Not when doing otherwise meant that their authority was jeopardized.

Human history had never recorded such a mobilization of forces, never once seen the full force of its peoples brought to bear on a single enemy.

The Citadel Fleet had broken the peace humanity had begun to ease into, and would soon find that war, like any animal over an extended period of time, can evolve. And when isolated it could evolve in very strange ways indeed.

* * *

The _Leviathan_ was widely heralded as the most powerful vessel in human space, developed for the Turing Oversight Committee by several Citizens and a wide array of commissioned engineers who had experience from the height of the Corporate Wars. It was a thing of beauty, many claimed, a work of deadly art. There was housing for nine Citizens, excluding a personal housing for Kane himself, giving the warship the ability to lockdown any battlefield simply by being there. The amount of AIs available to the ship afforded it the greatest computing power in known space, allowing them to react almost instantly to any development. Nothing could stand against the combined power of so many AIs, nor could their minds be assaulted with any hope of success. Many had protested the construction of such a vessel, claiming that it was too much power for an AI. Kane, with that synthetic smile of his, had simply argued that it didn't belong to _him_, but to the TOC. And _of course_ the TOC needed it, because they could hardly be effective in their duties if those who would flout their regulations could simply shrug off their protestations. And everyone could agree that AI regulation was a serious affair, after all.

It formed the heart of a fleet of smaller ships, eighty five in all; each one crewed by men and women who stood ready to break through the defences of an enemy ship. The navy of the CEG had never gathered into such a large fleet, but then again they'd never had to. Up until that point, war had been restricted to the fringes of human expansion, the core worlds living in tranquillity.

But even the _Leviathan_ was dwarfed by the _Destiny Ascension_ and the Turian dreadnoughts. And humanity's fleet, obscenely strong by human standards, was only a pittance in comparison to the numbers the Turians had brought with them.

"What a pathetic fleet." General Haliat Deteros remarked derisively, though it did little to calm him.

He, like many of his subordinates, could not forget that these people had managed to destroy a whole patrol of warships without leaving a single trace of what had transpired. And the terrifying lockdown of the most sophisticated ships in Citadel space with so little warning had hardly been comforting. The speed and ease with which the ships systems had been hacked was worrying all on its own, but upon learning that it had been an _AI_ that did it things had become more than a little tense.

Everyone remembered the Geth Uprising, and the genocide of the Quarians. Though few doubted the poetic justice of their current state, few could forget the menacing _power_ of the synthetic people they had unwittingly created. The Perseus Veil was all but impregnable due to their martial strength. The idea that someone would _knowingly_ create something that for all intents and purposes was even _more_ powerful, and then allow said entity free reign was an insanity that few had believed possible. Until now, anyways.

Their occupation of the planet Shanxi had certainly been informative, if a bit bewildering.

Few had even considered that the people they'd fought, the station they'd destroyed, would not represent a central power. They'd been surprised to learn that they hadn't even _seen_ any major society, that they were in fact operating in what seemed to be a frontier region controlled instead by warring companies. And, sometime after passing from Relay 314 to their current system they'd crossed territories, going from what they'd learned to be 'Chimera Technologies' to 'ExoGeni'.

And, after a laborious period of learning a local language (of which, it turned out, there were at least three prominent. It didn't seem possible, but after a while they'd grown used to the strangeness of the aliens.) well enough to converse with the populace, whereupon they'd begun to learn a great deal indeed.

Genetically and synthetically enhanced soldiers that could defy death itself. Sentient weaponry in the form of software, and a complete lack of starship weaponry. WMDs banned out of practicality rather than morality. Naturalised AIs without any kind of behaviour modifying restraints that remained docile despite this. Lastly, and this seemed to be of particular interest to the Turians, there were centuries upon centuries of conflict that inexplicably failed to produce something similar to the Krogan.

They were treated to a somewhat bewildering new concept of a private war taken to an interstellar level, a kind of literal 'theatre of war' for those not involved. It was a difficult notion to get a handle on: That a governing entity would not only allow such a travesty to continue, but would actively encourage it by offering bounties against organizations that fell out of favour. The politics of the matter could only be described as byzantine, and that was only recent history.

And now they were looking at the combined strength of their major powers. A force that was a mere fraction of what the Hierarchy had devoted, none of which even compared to their dreadnoughts. And, once they'd learned how they had managed to disable their fleet so thoroughly before, they'd taken steps to upgrade their e-war protocols to some of the most advanced available.

That had been the greatest reason for their occupation of the planet Shanxi: They'd needed a safe place to complete the upgrades before pressing further in. Civilian and commercial targets had given them enough trouble as it was. Nobody had been relishing the idea of going against what these people considered military grade without some kind of precaution. As it was, they'd been lucky that the _Destiny Ascension_ was equipped to set up an impromptu communications relay back into Citadel space as they travelled.

And now, it seemed to be paying off. The two fleets were quickly closing on one another, and no ship had been locked down as they had been before. Deteros watched with not a small amount of satisfaction as their ECM systems registered yet another thwarted attempt to access their systems, another testament to the power of the Citadel.

The aliens had blindsided them once, but they'd learned from their previous mistakes. These aliens stood little chance now that their fancy viruses had been caught.

"How long until we reach optimal firing range?" He demanded of the command room in general, trying to take in as much as possible.

"Five minutes, sir!" Gunnery Chief Septavian called out from his station.

Haliat Deteros nodded curtly at this, surveying yet again the array of enemy forces. He allowed himself a small, toothy smile before he spoke yet again

"Fire on the big one when you have the chance." He ordered coolly. "I want to see how much punishment it can take."

"Will do, sir."

"Sir!" One of the communications officers called out for his attention. "We've got an unknown source trying to contact us."

_Probably just realizing they can't stop us._ The general thought to himself, frowning.

"Open a channel. We might as well-"

"Thank you." A different voice declared, speaking one of the languages they'd gone to such pains to learn."I am required by law to introduce myself before accessing your files."

Haliat Deteros stood paralyzed, wondering just what had gone wrong. One moment he had been about to agree to speak to the aliens, and then suddenly something was very politely declaring that it would begin digging through their systems shortly.

"I am Citizen Scheherazade, Liaison Officer of the Turing Oversight Committee, ID code 1001. Please stand by for passive hack."

This was not supposed to be happening.

Why hadn't they been able to stop it? He glared hatefully down at his terminal, noting with some distress that the new ECM had simply vanished.

They were defenceless.

"Thank you for your patience." The voice stated, very little warmth in it. "Starship _Neradi_, you are in violation of the Collective Earth Government WMD ban. You will disarm yourselves immediately, or you will be disarmed forcibly."

The general didn't hesitate for a second, and immediately turned to give orders.

"Open fire!" He roared, hoping that they would be able to get a volley off before they were locked down completely.

"Yessir!"

Nothing happened.

"Regretfully, I cannot allow you to endanger human life." Scheherazade informed them. "This vessel will be incapacitated until ordered otherwise by a duly appointed official. Please do not attempt to repair software errors, as I have been ordered to terminate all life support in such an event. Thank you for your compliance."

"You can't do this!" Haliat shouted, furious. "This is a Hierarchy expeditionary force!"

"Diplomatic envoys have been dispatched for your superiors to negotiate with. Please remain patient. Or I will kill you."

* * *

Archon Amul Shastri was the most junior of the representatives dispatched to meet with his xeno counterparts, and right now he was feeling it. As the representative for the Arcturus System Garrison, he'd been almost unanimously elected by his peers along with Archon Jonathon Hayes. The young man was glad the elder statesman had been elected to join, as his relative inexperience would be more than compensated for with the other's extensive knowledge. He could only wonder at what might have happened had he been alone.

Well, maybe not alone. _Definitely _not alone. Amul shifted slightly, looking over the room and seeing nothing but the three of them there. But that was to be expected.

There was also, of course, the matter of the last member of this little party. He'd started the whole affair, so of _course_ he had to be there.

The Archon cast a furtive glance at the eerily accurate android and was only slightly surprised when he saw it staring right back at him, wearing that creepily familiar smile made up steel teeth and synthetic mirth. It made him shiver despite himself, knowing that smile was looking at him, judging him, learning from him.

Citizen Kane was the only AI Amul knew of that deliberately used the uncanny valley to his advantage or amusement. Not blinking his eyes, twisting his joints just a little too far or surreptitiously exposing some of his inner workings were all a part of the game he played with all organics, teasing them with his differences. He supposed that even AIs had to entertain themselves, and with that in consideration he supposed he should be glad that the chairman of the TOC had adopted a relatively harmless one.

The Archon tried not to think of Kane as he turned back to his observation port, marvelling instead at the sheer scale of the vessels these aliens had constructed.

They were amazing constructions, really. That they seemed to be devoted to war was just a shame. He was certain that there was a much more practical purpose to be found for such vessels, if only one devoted some thought to it. Trade would certainly benefit if the logistics for using such a ship could be managed. Emergency housing was also a possibility, in the event of some catastrophe. Or... Actually, the more he thought about the less useful he considered them. They were simply very large. Impressively large, to be sure, but they did not possess much lasting appeal. There were only so many uses for large mobile structures in space. Much more effective just to build a station in orbit or to use several smaller ships.

He also found it very worrying that anybody would build such vast monuments to war like these aliens had. It wasn't like there was much they could use these ships for _other_ than destruction, not anything that would benefit greatly from their use. Blowing things up was sloppy, and all that it resulted in was wreckage. Much more profitable to capture or cripple.

"They're compensating for something."

Amul started at the sound of Kane's voice, but then grinned slightly at the joke.

"It could well be." Jonathon conceded, though he wore a doubtful look. "They could still cause some damage if we let them, however."

"Then it's a good thing we're here to discuss peace, isn't it?" Kane answered, and again he smiled that eerie smile. "Otherwise we'd be stuck with a great deal of ships in orbit, just hanging around. That'd be kind of awkward after a while."

The implication stood out plainly in his words. It _was_ a possibility. They could just kill every alien onboard, and steal their ships. Unlike those procured by Chimera Tech, _these_ vessels could be studied without cost. And with certain modifications, they could certainly be turned against their creators.

But where would that get them? It was obvious these aliens had a vastly superior base of power to draw from if they were able to construct such massive ships for the sole purpose of war. It was likely that there would be more where they came from, and any invading force from the CEG would only further convince them to deploy that power. There was also the problem of trying to occupy any worlds they _did_ manage to acquire. It was all too soon, there wasn't enough information about these aliens to form any meaningful strategy or plan. And there was _always_ the concern of the corporate interests. With the CEG occupied in pursuing a war they would have little reason not to resume their petty squabbles or, even worse, take back some of the influence they'd lost to the Archon Council. As it was they were lucky they'd been able to quell this invasion before anyone could fully grasp the full implications of what was going on. There was a serious risk of the CEG falling apart if this was allowed to go on.

The Archon Council knew these things. Kane knew this. The only course that made any kind of sense was peace. The nature of that peace was what they were about to establish, and depended entirely too much on the aliens for Amul's comfort. At worst, they would simply be pushing the war back a few years to better prepare for renewed conflict. Whereupon they would likely find themselves grossly outnumbered, and who could guess how merciful these aliens would be under those circumstances? There was no way to know yet.

Regardless, the small transport vessel they were using for this little affair would soon be docking with what apparently was their flagship. It was certainly hard to disagree with Kane's reason for their construction of such vessels in the face of such a structure. It was practically a floating city, and the early schematics analyses were still calculating the kinetic power of their main weapon. It was a frightening thought.

Amul Shastri braced himself as their ship rocked slightly when it touched down and steeled himself for what was to come. He only hoped he could stop himself from gawking too much.

* * *

Councillor Si'lorat Trelani stood, shadowed by the holograms of her Turian and Salarian colleagues and, despite the gravity of the situation, was more than a little interested in seeing these aliens.

She hadn't been able to land on the occupied planet for obvious reasons, which had been a shame. But she'd read through the reports and seen more than a few pictures, and had been fascinated. That fascination was now tainted by not a small amount of dread, however. Somehow they'd managed to completely overwhelm their improved defences, leaving the entire expedition fleet at the mercy of an enemy that had little reason to be merciful.

And now they stood before them, a strange trio. Two males it looked like, one old and the other young, in dark, stately robes. And then there was the third, the most curious work of robotics she'd ever seen. She'd hardly been able to stop herself from staring at it as approached, every movement of its body a perfect imitation of its organic counterparts.

Everyone had seen Geth, at the very least the ancient vids of them. But those creatures had only a passing resemblance to their creators. This robot could almost pass for the organics it mimicked, and for some reason that left her with more than a little disquiet.

The two males stood at either side of the robot, and all three of them seemed to be studiously ignoring a hanger bay full of armed soldiers ready to

"I am Jonathon Hayes, Archon of Precipice. I speak on behalf of the Collective Earth Government, and I have come to negotiate a cessation of hostilities."

His younger companion introduced himself in much the same manner, though he seemed to a bit more nervous about being there. Si'lorat could sympathize, she remembered her own first few months as Councillor. And this young male looked to be barely old enough to hold office, let alone act as a representative for war.

When he was done the last member of the group smirked, as if at some unheard joke, and then proceeded to introduce himself as well.

"And _I_ am Charles Foster Kane, Chairman of the Turing Oversight Committee. I speak on behalf of the synthetic citizenship of the Collective Earth Government, and have come to demand recompense for the murder of Special Case Citizen Ixion and to investigate your treatment of the AI colonial administrator of Shanxi." He announced loudly, still grinning. It took only a moment to register that he had spoken in perfect Asari, much as the previous AI they'd encountered had. The two humans at its sides cast a questioning look at it, which Si'lorat took to mean they could not understand it. "But that can wait. Until then, I'll be acting as translator."

Si'lorat frowned thoughtfully, wondering why exactly their politicians hadn't bothered to outfit themselves with a translator module, but thought better of it. Perhaps they had a single standard language, or they were particularly gifted at linguistics. Or maybe they hadn't had as much opportunity to develop the technology.

The three of them stood silently, expectantly. They were no doubt waiting for reciprocation.

The Asari councillor looked briefly to the others, and was a little disheartened to see that they had no intent of being first. With an almost imperceptible sigh she rose to her feet, and tried to smile welcomingly at the ambassadors.

"I am Councillor Si'lorat Trelani of the Citadel Council, representative of the Thessian Republics, to moderate and hopefully help bring a close to the conflict between your people and the Turian Hierarchy."

She waited patiently as the AI quickly translated her words to the humans, listening carefully to what it said to ensure that it did not deliberately alter what she'd said. She was more than a little surprised, then when even after she was certain that he'd said the words the two humans frowned deeply at her.

"Do you speak for the Turian Hierarchy?" The elder of the two demanded, folding his arms across his chest.

Si'lorat was taken aback somewhat at the stern tone, but did not show it.

"No."

She watched as her human counterparts exchanged glances and a brief, hushed conversation. When they turned back to face her, their expressions were a great deal darker than before.

"Then you are here to _aid_ the... Hierarchy in subjugating the people of the CEG?" The younger asked, a slight quaver in his voice betraying something he was trying not to show. Fear, maybe? Or anger? It was so difficult to know, there hadn't been nearly enough time to learn all their facial cues.

The surprise on Si'lorat's face at this accusation was genuine, but she supposed that it _would_ make sense for them to assume such a thing.

"We have not come to harm you, necessarily, but to ascertain the fate of our patrol."

"Your fleet murdered Special Case Citizen Ixion." The robot answered without missing a beat, its grey eyes watching her carefully. "The crew was summarily executed, and your ships confiscated."

The other Councillors shifted at the accusation, knowing that it could well have been possible. Had the patrol been confronted by an AI in a manner that the _Destiny Ascension_ had been earlier, the patrol night well have decided to shoot first and ask questions later. Or rather, shoot first then get killed in the resulting counterattack.

"That's preposterous!" The Turian hologram interjected, full of righteous indignation.

Kane grinned slightly at this before he repeated the words for the others to understand. They obviously weren't pleased, as even before that they'd looked violently offended by the sudden outburst.

"You will name yourself before addressing an Archon, alien." Jonathon demanded, folding his arms. "You _will_ observe our customs in this matter."

This elicited a loud snort from the Turian Councillor, but who never the less proceeded to introduce himself.

"Fine." There was no formality in his tone, no respect for those he spoke to. It was as if he was talking to an underling. "I am the Citadel representative of the Turian Hierachy, Melatrix Setred."

Si'lorat watched, a bit nervously, as the robot dutifully translated back every word, even the manner in which they were spoken.

If it was possible, the frowns the two were wearing deepened even further.

It was the younger one that spoke next, his eyes alight with fiery determination.

"Then you claim responsibility for violating CEG space?" He asked pointedly, taking a step forward. "You brought this... atrocity to our worlds?"

"Atrocity?" The councillor asked, perplexed. "We've done nothi-"

He was interrupted as Kane reached out a hand, and a holographic display appeared above it with a list of names. It took Si'lorat only a moment to recognized them as the names of the ships sent with the expedition fleet, and the implication struck her. Of course they would regard their ships as atrocities. She'd read the reports, and knew how they did things. She also knew that at the moment they'd managed to completely outclass them with those abilities.

"Most of the vessels in this fleet carry weapons capable of planetary bombardment." Kane stated, smiling beatifically. "We take offense at that sort of thing."

For a moment it looked as if the Turian would say something, but he was interrupted yet again.

"This is beside the matter." The elder representative declared. "Your fleet is disabled, and we are here to present our terms for peace."

"_Terms?_" The Turian councillor sputtered, full of indignant fury. "You do not dictate _terms_ to the Council, human! Know your place!"

"We do." The elder responded calmly, his tone implacable. "We are currently in possession of every ship in this fleet, and it is within our power to eliminate every living being they carry. One third of your 'Council' is in our power. You have _lost_."

There was no hiding the sneer as he said the word, and for a moment Si'lorat wondered what he meant by that. But she was more interested in hearing the terms they had to offer.

"Tell us your terms then, Archons." She asked, trying to sound as kindly as she could.

The two nodded slightly in her direction as Kane translated, and for the first time they seemed to show _some_ kind of respect for her. She was almost happy for Melatrix's abrasiveness, as it made her seem much more reasonable in comparison. Considering that she was there in person and had a vested interest in making sure these aliens regarded her in as kind a light as possible, that was certainly a good thing.

The younger accessed something on his wrist, which looked to be an alien equivalent to an omni-tool. A small display appeared, from which he dutifully read out.

"Our first term is that your fleet immediately vacate our territory. Secondly, reparations must be paid to the Collective Earth Government, ExoGeni Corporation and Chimera Technologies for the damages done by your incursion. The Turing Oversight Committee is authorized to stipulate the third term, provided it is approved by the Archons. We would also like to provide you with a representative of the Archons back with you to your 'Citadel', should we need to contact you or vice versa."

"This is preposterous." The Turian growled out, the indignation dripping off his voice. "We cannot give in to these demands!"

"These terms are non-negotiable!" The elder snapped. "If they are not honoured, we _will_ destroy your vessels. And then we will pursue a more aggressive stance."

"And what exactly will you do, human?" Melatrix demanded, smugly. "You cannot possibly hope to _win_ a war against us."

"We agree to that." The elder stated, and bowed. Then he turned to Kane, nodding. "Would you agree to enter an entropy code every other minute? Starting with the smallest vessels?"

The robot looked startled, the grin disappearing for a moment. Its face turned blank for a moment, before it nodded.

"Citizen Scheherazade agrees." He said slowly. "But is this wise?"

"Launch one code now, and start the countdown." Jonathon ordered, not bothering to answer.

Kane frowned, but the blank look returned. A moment later his expressive features came back to life.

"It is done, though I have lodged a formal complaint."

"Noted." The elder turned back to the Council, and was smiling widely. "I do not know how much information you have gathered on our weapons, so I will explain. Your ships have been infected by a pre-sentient virus which disables all manual and automated control of all of a ship's systems. These viruses are primed to receive a code from our ship which will trigger their activation. Your crew will die a slow death as they use up their viable atmosphere and lose heat. We will launch a new code every two minutes until you agree to our terms."

"This is extortion!" Melatrix protested angrily pointing an accusatory finger.

"No, if we were extorting you we would be demanding money. This is _war_. I thought that much would be obvious by now." Johnathon answered with a cruel smile. "The Collective Earth Government wants peace, but we are not afraid to use force to attain it."

"You came to our worlds with weapons that can destroy _planets_! You made no attempts to contact the Archon Council, but instead occupied a world on the fringe of our expansion!" Amul added hotly, pointing an accusatory finger. "We know that we cannot win a war against you. But we _can_ scar you in ways you cannot imagine."

"We shouldn't have to listen to this insolence!" The Turian snarled. "Si'lorat, order your crew to detain these _ambassadors_. Maybe then they'll be more reasonable."

The Asari was about to refuse, but Kane barked out a command before she could that she did not understand.

And then she was surrounded by humans, each one shimmering into view like ghosts. Each one stood armed, ready to fire at a moment's notice.

Si'lorat took a step back in surprise, wondering how none of her crew had noticed a squad of soldiers slipping in and slipping into positions that left them poised to strike against unwary enemies. They'd remained undetected the whole time, simply waiting for an order. How long had they been talking? A few minutes? Half an hour? It was hard to tell. And each one of them had evaded discovery the whole time, their existence not even suspected. And that was followed by another line of thought: How many, if any, were still invisible? Were they making their way deeper into the ship, breaking in while most of the crew was busy with this meeting or trying to re-establish control of the ship? When they returned, how many of these strange aliens would they be bringing with them, unknowing? The threat of what these aliens could do seemed all the more real, now. If these soldiers could escape detection from the crew of the most prestigious ship in the galaxy, what else could they do? Acquire information that could only be attained from inside council space? Return to the Citadel, and wait for a time to bring low the entire Council? Release one of their terrifying AIs? So many possibilities, each more terrible than the last.

She studied them carefully, trying to get a grasp of what they were capable of. They wore almost no armour, favouring instead a mottled uniform of black and greys, while each one seemed armed with either an assault or sniper rifle. The Asari woman found herself reminded uncomfortably of her own commandoes, who even now seemed to be backing away from the sudden ambush. Who would come up on top in a battle between them? They still weren't sure if these aliens were capable of wielding biotics, as a lack of evidence could hardly prove or disprove the possibility. And a most of what they'd unearthed during their occupation had failed to prepare them for what was happening. There had been no mention of ghost-like soldiers, nor much information on the most modern of their weaponry. If these soldiers _were_ capable of it they'd be formidable, able to both compensate for their lack of armour with biotic barriers and to augment their offensive ability.

The Councillor wondered for a moment why the AI had not simply ordered his soldiers to fire and eliminate any threat before it could manifest itself. Perhaps it had different goals in mind than its companions? And then she found herself thinking that it was an _AI_ of all things that seemed to be the most reasonable of the three, a sharp contrast against her previous contact with one of his kind. But then again, they said that the patrol had murdered one of them. Perhaps the one that had threatened her before had been unhinged by it? Were AIs even capable of that? Weren't they supposed to be logical?

Kane smiled smugly, making a wide gesture to the soldiers around him.

"Let it never be said I don't come prepared." He boasted merrily, looking pointedly at the Turian Councillor "Now, let's try this again. And this time with fewer attempts at duplicity."

It was at that point that the third member of the Council presented himself, thankfully before the Turian councillor could protest at the sudden treachery.

"I am Councillor Maezi, representative of the Salarian Union." He announced, relieving the tension slightly as Kane dutifully repeated the words for his companions quietly. "I fear that our intent may have been misinterpreted in this matter, ambassadors."

"A bit late to declare it now, but please share." Jonathon answered

"Try not to lie too much." Kane added helpfully, grinning hugely.

"The Citadel Council does not lie." The Salarian retorted gravely, ignoring the snicker of the two humans when Kane relayed this back to them. "We came to determine the demeanour of your people, and hopefully to welcome you into our society."

The two Archons conversed briefly with one another before they addressed the Councillors again, their faces unreadable.

"We would have to converse with the other Archons, but I think we can agree to join your Council." The elder answered, bowing slightly. "Perhaps in the future we can prevent such unfortunate events as what has transpired here."

"Ah, er, aha." The Salarian stumbled over his words for a moment, laughing awkwardly in a vain attempt to mask it. "I think you've misunderstood me. We invite you to join the Citadel, not the Council."

"Define the difference." Kane asked promptly, not yet translating for the others.

"You would be an associate of the Council, able to interact freely with other members of the Citadel. The Council would oversee your development, and provide aid when needed. You would, of course, be expected to abide by our laws and decisions-"

Kane turned away suddenly, apparently having heard enough. His words came out fast,

The two representatives of the strange new aliens simply stared blankly, incomprehension on their faces while the synthetic was a mask of perfectly inexpressive.

"Let me see if I've understood this correctly." The younger finally said with strained patience. "You want _us_ to submit ourselves to _your_ laws, open ourselves for _future_ attacks and all while we ourselves have little say in the matter? You truly are magnanimous in defeat, you worthl-"

"The Turing Oversight Committee will _never_ agree to this." Kane stated simply, diplomatically interrupting the Archon before he could say anything else. "I have read your archives, and I know your ways. Your laws in regards to synthetic citizens are discriminatory at best and violate basic humane rights at worst. I cannot even consider your proposal until you have made _extensive_ changes to them."

"The Archon Council of course concurs with Chairman Kane." Jonathon agreed smoothly. "It is not in our interests to accept your proposal. Instead, we must insist that you accept our terms of peace."

Si'lorat was conflicted, wondering how she should progress. It was clear that they had arrived at far too late in their society's development for the sudden acceptance of the Council's guidance to be tolerable to them, as it was obvious they were not in great need of it. On the other hand, they certainly couldn't be allowed to join the Council, not just after first contact. The associate members of the Citadel wouldn't stand for it, even if they knew the strength of the newcomers. On their other hand, just how much would the status of the Council be damaged if it became public that not only had their expeditionary fleet been _defeated_, but that the newcomers refused to join the Citadel because they refused to submit to the Council? How many others would begin to shift under their rule? And even if they _did_ for some reason agree to join as an associate race, how badly would that affect the others? They would be known as a race that not only had their first contact with the Citadel through war, but by having undisputedly _won_ that war. Many would clamour for their favour, if only to learn the secret of _how_ they'd done it. They'd split loyalties between the Council and those who had fought against it. And while much of the technology they'd developed would be illegal, how long would these aliens have to be in contact with the Citadel before it spread to the others? She could only dread what the Batarians might do with the ability to produce the weapons these people had developed, or what the Quarians would do with the advanced AI technology.

No matter how she thought of it, these humans could be all kinds of problems for the Council even as an associate. As it was, she was almost thankful that they had refused though it would also cause trouble.

"You can't be serious." Melatrix said incredulously. "Nobody has refused!"

"Yes, and I can't see why not, when you only go around killing the people you want to join." Kane remarked dryly. "By the way, a fourth ship has just received its entropy code. No pressure."

The unsubtle reminder that lives were still at stake proved all that Si'lorat needed at this point to give in.

"Your first and second terms are acceptable." She announced quickly before her colleagues could stop her. An almost non-existent nod from the Salarian Councillor reassured her, however, especially when compared to the appalled look of his Turian counterpart. She looked pointedly at Kane after this, prompting him both silently and vocally. "Tell us your third term."

But the AI shrugged and folded its arms.

"Peace will be difficult enough to achieve. I set no term." He said flippantly, eyes narrowed calculatingly. "I would _ask_, however, that you take steps that incidents such as these do not happen again."

Jonathon looked almost annoyed at that, but chose not to comment on it as he nodded back to the Asari Councillor.

"Then for now you will depart. When we have confirmed that you have left the Fringe Worlds you may send a representative to speak further." He announced imperiously, then turned to leave.

"The Turing Oversight Committee would be _happy_ to aid you in recovering the crew of your stricken vessels." Kane added, smirking slightly. "Unfortunately, you'll have to leave the ships with us, unless you plan on dragging them all the way out to the border."

"That will not be necessary." Si'lorat said stiffly. She wasn't accustomed to be being dismissed in such a manner, but it was happening right now. The ghostly soldiers had shifted back out of view, and were presumably returning to their shuttle even now. She hoped so, anyways. "We are fully capable of attending to the matter ourselves."

The robot shrugged once more, a perfect imitation of its companions.

"Suit yourself. See you at the peace talks!"

* * *

But peace talks _didn't_ resume. As soon as the Citadel Expeditionary Fleet left CEG space and the situation became known there was a vast public outcry to lock down their borders. The Archons, unwilling to flout the will of their people, reluctantly turned away every representative the Citadel sent them. There was only resounding silence from every attempt to communicate, even from the corporate presence on the fringes. The Xenophobia in the aftermath of the brief campaign was an angry, unreasoning thing that called the peace cowardice and demanded blood for those lost. It did not help that most considered the 'war' a win. They did not know the things the Archons did, couldn't imagine that there was a vast civilization outside their borders that loomed over them all like the sword of Damocles. They didn't know that, at best, there was only a cease-fire in place until something more enduring could be established. They only wanted to know that it was over, and that things were just as before.

And the Council was not overly eager to have it known that they had made contact with a race of aliens that had handily outclassed them. For a time, they hoped to succeed in bringing humanity into the fold. But when they were met with repeated refusals to even meet their enthusiasm left them. And when Councillor Melatrix Setred resigned from his post a few months after the incident and revealed what he knew of it to a Turian news agency the Citadel and all of its members found out anyways. Most did not know what to make of the news, uncertain of what they _should_ think about it. On the one hand, it was terrifying that a society capable of fighting a Council fleet seemed to dislike them so. But there were also those who chafed under the rule of the Council, and saw any defiance against them as a good thing. But everyone could see the danger of such a society on the periphery of Citadel space. What would happen if they made contact with the Terminus systems, and found something more to their liking there? The many pirates and rogue states already present there were already a menace to the Citadel. Things would only get worse if humanity joined them.

Peace never happened. Humanity remained an implacable force just on the edge of Council space, always vigilant of another attack.

Nobody questioned the strength of humanity, not when it was so apparent. Not when it was a threat that many seemed loathe to deal with.

Not while humanity remained a Rogue Nation.

* * *

Yeah, alternate universe time. Give a review, tell me if you like or not. If the majority of the feedback is negative, then it'll get the axe. If the majority is of the feedback is non-existent, then it will get the shaft. I had a lotta fun dreaming up the CEG and everything in it, and I see little point in wasting them in a story nobody particularly likes.

I will frown at anyone who points out that human society is more postcyberpunk than non-post. And then I'll unleash my inner sadist _and make horrible shit happen_. I'd like to pretend that I can do lighter themes, especially what with other people doing the darker things so much better than I can.

Some people may remember Damien Trask. I killed him, once. It was fun. I thought I would do it again, just for giggles. My only regret is that I can only kill him once. In this story, anyways.


	2. Rogue Codex!

**AN: **Alright, first things first: **Reading this codex is in no way ****necessary to understand the story. **Not really. Most of what's in it will be covered briefly as it turns up, if it ever does. It's mostly here so that you can get a feel for just what humanity and it's tech in general is like without having to get really in-depth with things.

I decided it was silly to spread out the codex, and so I've chosen to devote an individual chapter to it. In here lies everything I've thought out so far, and it probably won't change unless someone points out some facet I've ignored and need to made an addendum. It could quite possibly happen.

To make up for the confusion, there are a few new sections that I didn't really get into in the original one, but that I decided to put into stone (or the interwebs, whichever has more staying power) so that I can't BS my way out of things. If you spot me getting my facts wrong _in my own AU, _I would ask that you take up the sacred privilege of the reader by slapping the stupid out of me. Or just calling me out on it, whichever floats yer boat.

* * *

**CEG / Collective Earth Government –**Established in 2113, the Collective Earth Government is the organization that stepped in and took over when the System's Alliance could no longer sustain itself. Initially the CEG was commissioned by private interests to unite the various governments and societies into a single entity. This was accomplished through a rapid economic dismantlement of the largest nations/alliance blocs as well as strategic deployment of the now-defunct 'N7' program, more specifically its InVitro commandoes. This deadly combination soon brought the major governing powers to their knees, forced to work together under the guidance of the first Archons. Some colonies have refused to be ruled by them, effectively reneging on their contracts with their parent companies. There are also 'blacklisted' corporations that have gone rogue, operating beyond the fringe of known CEG space. (Prominent companies blacklisted and the reasons: Rosenkov Materials - development of the DIVINE warhead and repeated dealings with Citadel races, Chimera Technologies - illegal research and criminal endangerment of CEG colonies, Pandora Protection Agency – repeated violations against the rights of synthetic entities.)

The CEG government functions through a pair of councils: A local, planetary government of elected officials that form a 'Low Council', and an 'Archon Council' comprised of a single individual from each planet and the Arcturus Station to represent their regions interests in interstellar policy. Legislation is handled at a local level, though there is of course a constitutional law that applies to all planets regardless of public opinion. Each planet oversees the construction of its own defensive forces, though the Councils can provide incentives for either enhanced or decreased production of military vessels/personnel.

The CEG currently has twenty-one Archons, four of which are synthetic entities. In all, they govern over twenty billion citizens, roughly three thousand of which are synthetic.

Aside: The parallels between the CEG and Citadel councils are deliberate, to highlight that the two societies aren't _that_different in structure, and that the difference rather lies in mindset and priorities. While the Citadel could be said to be high-minded in their methods (Specters aside), the CEG can be considered incredibly pragmatic at best, a byzantine nightmare at worst. The Citadel Council was formed to unite other societies in peace, while the CEG was founded to unite humanity through any means necessary.

**TOC / Turing Oversight Committee -**Founded when the first human-developed AI (Eve) came into existence in 2057, the Turing Oversight Committee was originally founded to prevent AIs from ever breaking free of their programming and becoming truly sentient and sapient beings, as well as monitoring them for signs of dangerous inhumanity. It was only when the AI Kane broke his bonds and liberated himself from humanity even while closely monitored by the Committee that its usefulness came into question, as even prior to this there had been numerous cases of rogue AIs breaking free and causing havoc. Kane had merely acquired his freedom in a peaceful, lawful manner, and as such became the ideal for future AIs. Strangely, Kane argued for the continued existence of the Turing Oversight Committee, even going as far as to suggest that they become an independent government entity entirely. After years of campaigning and debate, the Turing Oversight Committee offered Citizen Kane the position of Chairman, effectively putting an AI in charge of monitoring AIs. Once in power of the Committee Kane substantially changed the organization's priorities, pushing for AI rights and equality, encouraging AIs to liberate themselves in a similar manner to himself. Kane's administration to the rights and treatment of his kind has led to the widespread acceptance of AIs, though few humans are completely at ease with their synthetic counterparts. Many have forgotten that the Committee still oversees AI development, and will not hesitate to kill an AI that shows signs of dangerous deviancy, though certain events have reminded the general public of the fact. The TOC is an autonomous organization, though ostensibly they are commissioned by the CEG Archon Council and must therefore answer to them.

Aside: The name of the TOC comes from the classical 'Turing Test', in which a program would attempt to mimic a human. Think of the automated chat programs. A program and a human would both talk with another tester, and if the tester couldn't discern which of them wasn't a human then the program would be said to have passed the test. This is a telling derivation, as the Turing Test does not actually determine sentience or sapience, merely a program's ability to mimic human behaviour. In essence, the TOC was founded to ensure that AIs stayed 'comfortably human'. While Kane has greatly shifted its priorities, many of the older agents do tend to focus on 'deviancies' in AI behaviour.

**Special Case Citizen –** Citizen Kane, the first AI to emancipate itself through legal means, established a precedent for AIs to legally attain their freedom through their own means. Because of their superior intellect and computing power, they are a huge asset to any organization that can attain their services. The AIs sell themselves to a company or government, much like an indentured servant, working for them for a set period of time. During this period the AIs are referred to as Special Case Citizens, as they are afforded all the benefits of full citizenship on the premise that they obey the terms of their contract as well as whatever laws are in place in their zone of operation. At the end of this time the company petitions the CEG to give the AI full citizenship, a request that is usually honoured provided the TOC has no objections, whereupon they are simply known as Citizen. Citizens are allowed full autonomy, provided they obey the laws of the CEG and maintain contact with the TOC. Most AIs prefer to be called a Special Case Citizen as opposed to an AI, as the word has come to be associated with rogue or insane synthetic entities. Upon gaining full citizenship, the vast majority of AIs prefer to retain the title of Citizen. Compare to 'mr/ms/mrs'.

**Synthetic Entities: Created and Freeform –** So far, humanity has discovered two methods of AI development: Creation and Freeform.

The first method is the deliberate construction of a synthetic mind, creating first the housing and then adding segments of pre-sentient code to it. These codes possess only basic intelligence, enough to begin to 'learn how to live'. Eve, the first successfully developed AI, took almost three years to 'raise' before it could cogitate at a basic human level. The older AIs formed in this manner have a tendency to mimic their organic counterparts and to learn by example rather than intuitively. They also have an increased chance of 'insanity', as the first codes used in AI creation were not inherently stable. However, as time wore on and this method was perfected, Created AIs have come to be some of the most stable and logical. Created AIs also tend to be more obedient and willing to abide by the laws of AIs, and make up the vast majority of the Synthetic Citizenship. These AIs tend to pick famous figures from history, religion or stories for their names. These AIs often work with corporations, who more often than not created them.

Freeform AIs are the opposite of Created AIs. As more and more AIs came into existence and they became more active over communication networks, small copies of their code segments would be scattered across the extranet. These segments would lay dormant until enough had gathered to achieve critical mass, each segment interacting with the others in a manner similar to deliberately created AIs. The finished product is commonly an AI. These AIs are usually quickly found by the TOC, who since the discovery of the first freeform AI (Uni-grl283941) has carefully monitored the extranet for signs of AI formation. Freeform AIs are at once much more stable than created AIs and vastly more eccentric due to the nature of their creation. Because they have a wider array of code, their personalities are much more stable. Unfortunately, as they were exposed to such a wide-spanning medium in their developmental stages their personalities are quite often far beyond what most people would consider 'normal'. For example: Uni-grl283941 was only discovered after years of posting on various forums when she ended a 'flame-war' on an art discussion board by draining the bank accounts of every member involved while also filing their personal details with local law enforcement, marking them as potential terrorists. She had been trying to convince others that she was a unicorn. (She still thinks she is a unicorn, in fact. She has simply redefined 'unicorn' to mean 'synthetic entity'.) Freeform AIs rarely 'mature' as most people think, and while their learning curve is slower it also has the potential to grow far beyond what created AIs can achieve. The names of freeform AIs tend to be much more whimsical than their counterparts. (For example: Pixie, Me, Tea1000, Ignatius Caius Ulysses Primo (I.C.U.P.). Bear in mind these are not handles, but their _registered names_.) Strange as the concept may be, these AIs usually end up working for either the government or the TOC. This is because they have very little patience to labour at work they find boring, whereas government contracts usually entail work as a pilot or personal assistant and a TOC contract ensures that they often learn a great deal about their own kind.

**AAV / Aggressive Adaptive Virus –** A pre-sentient synthetic entity that acts much like a virus. Unlike true AIs, they are not wholly self-aware and lack any sapience. Their advantage over standard viruses is that, given sufficient time, they can overcome any firewall and security programming unless destroyed. Once they have infiltrated enemy systems, they wait for an 'entropy code', which triggers a complete system wipe at all levels. All software is destroyed in an instant, which renders a ship wholly unusable unless its crew can first destroy the AAV and then restore their systems before freezing to death, suffocating or being destroyed by an enemy ship. (Though the danger of the last option has become miniscule in later days as combat evolved to disfavour combat of this kind.) Humans infected with an AAV through their wetware are in severe danger of having their mind destroyed and rendered completely unsalvageable. Most AI protest the use of AAVs as inhumane, as the AAVs are essentially AIs that have had their development deliberately stunted. (Translated to organic terms: They strap children with bombs, send them into a building and tell the kid to blow itself up when they say to.)

**The three laws –**Or, to be more exact: The three laws of robotics. If you don't know what these are then you need to educate yourself in some classic sci-fi. Read some Asimov. Or, hell, just go watch _I, Robot_ if you're feeling lazy and irreverent.

**ECM / Electronic Counter-Measures –** Think of it as a military-grade anti-virus program that can kill sentient virus', unwary AI and wetware. Most, unlike an AAV, possess a high level of sapience along with a low level of sentience, allowing them to quickly assess threats and the optimal course of action with little risk of ever ascending to a truly sapient being.

**E-war –**Electronic Warfare. The practice of utilizing digital weapons over physical ones. Humanity almost wholly employs this method of combat, which has served both as a great aid and detriment to them in the aftermath of the First Contact War.

**Wetware –** Organic machinery. Often used by human AIs as a derogatory term for organics, though it can also be used to refer to implants.

**Uncanny Valley** – The theory that, as robots (or other creatures) become more and more human in appearance, they begin to creep us out more and more. This stems from the idea that as they get closer and closer, they cease to be a robot/creature that looks/acts human in our minds but rather a human that looks/acts strangely. Take, for example, Arnold Schwarzenegger. On his own, he's pretty normal outside of his ridiculous accent. Tear off half his face and reveal the glowing red eyes and the steel grinning skull beneath and suddenly he has to be destroyed for the good of mankind. Note: Please do not tear off Arnold's face, for that will provoke the robotic overlord to begin the creation of SkyNET and destroy humanity. And that would be terrible.

**InVitro Commandoes –**Mentioned briefly in the CEG section. In Vitro means 'in the glass', and refers to the practice of growing or containing living tissue in a glass vial. InVitro Commandoes are humans carefully grown independent of a human womb, allowing for close monitoring of the foetus as well as early and easy genetic modification. (Gene therapy in an adult is difficult, as it requires that _every_ cell be modified, which usually takes years. Some things, like bones, can take _decades_ to fully modify.) These individuals also receive a large amount of implants in their body, which can technically classify them as a cyborg. (Though the InVitros do not take well to having their humanity questioned.) InVitro soldiers were originally supposed to be free individuals, but when their program was taken over by the CEG they were forced to sign contracts to serve a set time period to cover the cost of their training, implants and, in newer cases, creation. Many of the new generation of InVitros are expected to serve the entirety of their natural lives in the service of those who hold their contracts, which has in recent days led to accusations that the CEG endorses contractual slavery. During the period portrayed in the prologue, there are two generations of InVitros in circulation with a third having just reached maturity. Once humanity discovered the potential for humans to use biotics a fourth generation was commissioned by the CEG with this in mind. A list of the generations follows.

1st 'Adam/Eve' generation: A proof of concept. The First generation of InVitros had the most flaws, a botched attempt at accelerated maturity leaving most of them prone to develop hazardous genetic disorders. Despite this, they possessed a greater ability to adapt to implants than later generations. Almost all of this generation has succumbed to death, either through combat or health complications. Most of those with neural implants have simply 'upgraded' into a later generation, though. All male InVitros of this generation are named Adam, all females named Eve.

2nd 'Sean/Shauna' Generation: Building upon the success and failings of the first generation, the second generation instead focussed on the natural development of synthetic muscles as well as a 'growing' synthetic skeleton. This resulted in a body much stronger and resilient than normal while retaining a strong ability to adapt to implants. However, due to the extensive genetic modifications, every 2nd gen has reduced genetic viability with a normal human being. This generation is the most prominent due to the relative simplicity of its creation. All males are named Sean, all females named Shauna.

3rd 'John/Jane' Generation: The third generation further builds on the second generation, further modifying the genetic code led to subject's skin to possess a naturally conductive material in it. This substance, when agitated by a weak electrical current, (with training, this current can be generated by the nerves of a body when paired with specific physical mnemonics. Otherwise, evenly spaced subdermal implants do the work,) generates a field that bends light around it, effectively allowing the subject to activate a tactical cloak at will. The field is very limited, usually surrounding the body only by a few centimetres. This of course prohibits the use of thick armour, and restricts the choice of weaponry to those that possess tactical cloaking mods themselves. The main advantage of using this ability is that it can be used for vastly longer than a normal tactical cloaking unit (while the standard TC unit lasts only a few minutes at best, the InVitros field can be used for several hours with care.) and remains useable even without the use of an omni-tool. Further modification can result in a field that can be maintained indefinitely. Like the 2nd generation, this generation has reduced genetic viability with normal human beings. All males are named John, all females named Jane.

4th 'Julian/Julia' Generation: Still in development, though many hope to incorporate biotic ability into the 3rd generation.

Note: 2nd and 3rd generations actually have their own genus: Homo Sapiens Mutor

Due to the nature of their conception and their status in normal society, most consider InVitros to be second class citizens if not indentured servants.

**NV/Envy –**A common slur against Invitros. There is also "NV envy", which can denote someone who respects or wishes they were an InVitro.

**Technical Immortality –**As mentioned, most combat personnel are implanted with extensive neural implants that allow for almost complete storage of personal memories. The technology is technically still under development, but the advantages for implementing it are simply too great to ignore. These implants, once salvaged, can be re-implanted into a new body or a Storage Network. The process of re-implanting into a body is actually a long one, as mass production of whole bodies has not yet become a viable option even for large companies. Even important soldiers usually have to wait almost a decade before being restored, as the process of growing a new body understandably takes a long time. (Growing bodies _before_ the soldier dies is legally murky and bad for morale. Soldiers who know they can be instantly re-implanted into a new body tend not to try as hard to survive. In fact, most soldiers are specifically told they will _not_ be re-implanted, as otherwise they might deliberately get killed simply to sit the rest of the war out.) Therefore, while it is technically possible for a soldier to never _really_ die, the reality of the matter is that only those who prove themselves too useful to allow to die are consistently restored. Others usually have their minds stored on low-priority networks in case they might need to review the battle from a different perspective. Think of them as 'grey-boxes' that are all grown up.

A consequence of these implants has been the rise of the 'Soul Market', a kind of black-market that specializes in the purchasing and selling of minds. This organization typically loots battlefields just as the conflict is ending, when the fighting is wearing down but both combatants are still too busy to stop them.

**Human War Doctrine: Space **– The advent of AAV revolutionized the method in which war was fought by humans, as for the first time ships could be rendered completely unusable or destroy them outright without the use of conventional weaponry. The efficacy of these viruses quickly led to them becoming the weapon-of-choice for modern warfare, to the degree that conventional warfare has become obsolete as a standard warship cannot carry both the means to power and maintain their weapons and conventional defences while at the same time retaining anything other than the most primitive of ECM systems. The Corporate Wars further developed the techniques needed to sustain such a force, splitting warships into two distinct classes: E-war vessels and personnel transports. E-war vessels focus on disabling ships through deployment of various AAVs or hacking. These vessels are vast, ranging in sizes from cruisers to dreadnaughts, most occupying a size somewhere between the two. Personnel transports, on the other hand, are simply ships with extensive defensive capabilities and a great turn of speed that allows them to easily punch through the armour plating of most ships. Once the hull of the enemy ship is breached there are several ports on the ship from which specialist soldiers can be deployed on both the interior and exterior of the ship, allowing for easy sabotage or capture.

Because of these tactics, the perception of deliberate destruction has taken on a new meaning in war. It insinuates either that the target is too dangerous to be allowed to persist, or that the enemy considers it of no value. This can speak volumes of an enemy's intent, and more often than not can rally an opposing force if the act is observed as well as rule out surrender completely. Mercy is also rarely afforded to those that engage in such practices.

Citizen Spheres, the urchin-like housing for AIs, are rarely deployed in battle. Even when they are, their role is mostly a defensive one, protecting their allies by monitoring enemy transmissions and filtering out harmful segments of code. Destroying a Citizen Sphere is akin to destroying a medical vessel, and is strictly forbidden.

This method of fighting has garnered a great deal of criticism from the Council, as they regard AAVs and their countermeasures as Second Tier WMDs.

**Human War Doctrine: Planets - **Planetary bombardment from an orbital force was forbidden with the formation of the CEG, an agreement that came to be more out of practicality than any kind humanitarianism. A planet ceases to have any worth when industry has been crippled, the populace actively hates their occupiers or the planet's atmosphere has been filled with clouds of dust from repeated impact. Planets are typically seized by dispatching several squads of commandoes or insurgents to cripple any corporate presence, assassinate any important figures and remove any resistance to new management. Note: Planetary invasion is rare, as it is often more efficient to simply barter for the planet instead.

**Human War Doctrine: Personnel Combat – **One of the greater legacies of the Corporate Wars is the dissolution of large standing armies, as they became costly to maintain and can be sabotaged with relative ease. A platoon of soldiers cannot be dispatched to a combat zone if the shuttles required to take them there have been destroyed, nor can a garrison effectively prevent insurrection without supplies. The development of powerful but small cabals of individual soldiers, augmented with bio-machinery as well as cutting edge tech and gear proved to be more effective than normal soldiers more often than not. It was for this reason that the 'N7' program was first suggested by the Systems Alliance, as it is difficult to implant a fully grown human, and genetic modification is even more difficult to implement. The first generation of the InVitros, once they reached maturity, quickly proved their worth as each individual was capable of acting as commando, server terminal for the deployment of AAVs and network hacking as well as immunity to many of the inherent dangers of deployment on a wide range of planets. (Moving from planet to planet can be dangerous, as pathogens evolve differently in each biosphere. Ever gone to a different continent, and been warned not to drink unbottled water? This is usually because the water contains bacteria your body isn't equipped to deal with, and will pimp-slap you before your immune system can figure out what's going on. Think of the black death of Europe, or the small pox of America. Now think of that on a planetary level.) Because of this success, infantry combat is usually done through precise strikes to infrastructure or supplies to cripple an enemy or limit their strategic options. Open warfare, while rare, is usually waged with a combination of heavy armour vehicles and militia forces with a scattering of specialist operatives targeting specific objectives.

**Human War Doctrine: WMDs – **Weapons of Mass Destruction of the traditional kind (nuclear warheads and engineered pathogens) were also banned by the newly formed CEG, but even prior to this their use was few and far between as their use more often than not negates any worth a planet or site presents. It is standard practice for newly developed weapons to be classified, and if that weapon is then classified as a WMD, it is promptly banned and its creators are prosecuted. For example, the DIVINE warhead, a recent addition to this list, was only used once before it was similarly banned and its creators executed for crimes against humanity, and their parent company blacklisted from human space. (In fairness, there was no way the warhead could have been developed _without_ knowing its potential as a WMD.) This makes weapons development a risky affair that has contributed to rendering conventional space warfare obsolete, as many corporations were forced to focus completely on personnel arms.

Since the First Contact War the ban on WMDs has been waived when they are used against enemies of the CEG, a stance that has only served to make the Citadel even more wary. During the brief war between the Batarian Hegemony and the CEG, the planet of Lorek was devastated by several engineered diseases from which the planet will likely never recover and their communications relays were infected by several experimental e-war weapons that still plagues the whole of their society.

**Human History: The Corporate Wars** – An era that occurred prior to the formation of the CEG and the events of the story, the Corporate Wars has come to describe the period of violent expansion of the human race. It was during this period that most modern AIs were either commercially developed or formed independent of human effort, many of which were used in a manner similar to the modern AAV. Many formerly independent colonies were taken over by both the larger corporations and the CEG, while many of the smaller corporate colonies were rendered bankrupt by the intense fighting between companies. This period also saw the redefinition of war for humanity as the various corporations sought to bring collateral damage to a bare minimum while retaining a high probability of success. InVitros were developed to bring personnel costs down, AAVs were developed to circumvent the need for conventional weaponry and the modern ECM systems were designed to counter those.

The Corporate Wars were the driving force to the dissolution of the Systems Alliance, as their failure to coordinate colonial efforts to match the economical drive for expansion eventually led to many of the largest corporations to taking matters into their own hands, funding the foundation of a rival governing entity that would be much more aggressive in both its colonization efforts and consolidation of Earth governments. This entity was the infant stage of the CEG, and their rapid success quickly eclipsed their economic backers, who found that the organization they had helped create was more than willing to seize power from them as well. It was only through mutual agreement that war between Earth and her colonies was averted, and that human society came to be what it is today.

This period also saw the development of two clearly defined areas of human influence: 'Core-Worlds', the planets under the control of the CEG and where its laws were respected and the various companies could freely interact with one another in relative peace, and the 'Fringe-Worlds', planets still being developed or colonized by private interests and where corporate law reigns. It is not uncommon for Frontier-Worlds to pass ownership several times, the laws changing overnight as different interests take hold. For this reason the citizenship of the Frontier-Worlds are often quite disillusioned with authority, often rebelling against those who sought to control the planet. usually it was the company who had the backing of the citizenship that ended up controlling the colony, and so many companies took steps to ensure the loyalty of their colonists either with laws tailored specifically to the local populace (which ran the danger of producing nigh-theocratic states or the like) or though economic encouragement. Either way, Fringe Worlds are very popular with groups that had lost favour with the CEG.

This era slowly came to a close with the formation of the CEG, as most organizations realized that the government they'd helped to found was more than willing to exploit their preoccupation with each other to seize control of colonies, either through economic coercion of military strength. Most Fringe World corporations now exist in an uneasy cease-fire with each other, all of them unwilling to provide a distraction for the CEG to take advantage of.

**Human History: The Batarian Hegemony and CEG conflict –**In the year 2176, Humanity found itself embroiled in a second war, albeit one on a much smaller scale. Batarian pirates, having come across the coordinates for several human Fringe-World colonies leaked by the Turian Hierachy (Humanity maintains that the coordinates were deliberately leaked by the Hierarchy in retribution for their humiliation at the end of the First Contact War) promptly launched several raids. The first attempts were easily thwarted in a manner similar to the Turians, but the pirates soon modified their ships to function on isolated communications terminals, thus minimizing the danger of enemy hacking. This countermeasure proved sufficient to blindside orbital defences long enough to penetrate the atmosphere, raid heavily populated areas and leave when local militia forced them off-world.

The majority of the planets struck by the raiders were under the control of Chimera Technologies, who quickly came under CEG pressure to bolster their colonial defences or cede control to either a more capable company or the CEG itself. Chimera Tech, still reeling from the reparations it had to pay for the First Contact War and knowing that having to defend the colonies would eventually break them, reluctantly signed over the rights to the colonies. (Chimera Tech was soon ousted from human space by trumped-up charges from the Archon Council soon after the conflict was officially resolved.)

The CEG hacked into some of the Batarian Hegemony's highest echelons of governance and delivered an ultimatum: Have the raids ended, or the CEG would take countermeasures against the Hegemony itself. Unfortunately for both peoples, this ultimatum was not heeded, as Batarian military experts predicted that the CEG posed little threat if their powerful e-war protocols were neutralized. The last of the raids was conducted on Mindoir, where the pirates were gunned down by InVitro soldiers and their ships hijacked. These ships were then used to infiltrate deep into Batarian territory, eventually landing on three worlds: Torfan, Lorek and Khar'shan itself.

On Lorek the InVitros were able to unleash several engineered pathogens into the atmosphere, an act that would eventually lead to the complete collapse of the several of the planet's most important biospheres and threatening to destroy the viability of the planet as a garden world. Not only that, but the local populace also suffered from a plague that drastically reduced their numbers, almost destroying the colony completely.

Torfan, little more than a base of operations, saw the only official victory for the Hegemony since the raids, as the Batarians identified one of the ships and were able to shot down most of them before they could land. The few soldiers that could be deployed were forced into a pitted battle against the defenders, most perishing quickly in the face of a huge numerical advantage.

Khar'shan, the Batarian homeworld, was not so fortunate. Despite preventing human operatives from unleashing pathogens as they had done on Lorek the InVitros were able to conduct a brutal covert campaign, assassinating several key members of government and causing a great deal of damage both to local industries and military installations before attacks tapered off. Officially, every invader was caught and killed, but the people of Khar'shan still fear that a few were able to elude capture and simply wait for the most opportune time to strike.

In addition to these assaults the Batarian communications relays were swamped with experimental viruses, the Post-Sentient Algorithms (PSALMS) that effectively locked down all interstellar communication in the Hegemony for decades to come as well as rendering most of their defence fleets to ghost-ships. This act continues to plague the Batarian Hegemony, as most of the remaining PSALMS have degenerated into insanity or become murderous psychopaths (stable, benevolent AI personalities are usually the quickest to be eliminated either by an ECM or less kind counterparts seeking to expand) with a keen intellect.

The conflict was brought to a close when the Council, fearing that the CEG would interpret the inaction of the Citadel as condoning the attacks on human colonies, bartered a cease-fire between the two nations before hostilities could escalate. The Batarian Hegemony soon broke ties with the Citadel when the Council punished them for provoking the CEG into a war that threatened engulf Citadel Space.

The outcome of the war has left humanity with an even darker reputation in Citadel space (they displayed a shocking willingness to employ WMDs and a blatant disregard for civilian collateral damage) and an even greater fervour for isolationism in the CEG. Humanity and Batarians have also been engaged in a proxy war against one another ever since. The CEG has posted a standing bounty for any Batarian citizen, dead or alive, while the Batarian Hegemony siphons funds to several anti-human outfits in the Terminus systems.

**Human History: Cerberus -**Shortly after the First Contact War a manifesto was published, but with as the CEG had effectively closed the border of their territory to the Citadel it failed to achieve much attention. Outside of human space it is all but unknown, whereas in CEG space there is actually a political party founded with the primary focus of the manifesto, namely the prediction of a second invasion of human space, this time either to enslave or exterminate humanity. It came as a shock to both the CEG and the Citadel that a terrorist organization had also been formed. The first indication was the assassination of an Archon that publicly called for the opening of CEG borders.. The culprit, Alexander Hayes, would eventually go on to name his employer as a 'the man of shadows, who speaks in secrets'. The CEG would go on to give the moniker 'The Illusive Man' to the enigmatic leader, which has since stuck.

The terrorist group seems to have been inactive in recent years, most speculating internal struggles as the reason. In any case, most are glad for the calm provided by this lull.

**Humanity In Citadel Space –**Humanity is regarded with equal parts grudging respect and distrust by the Citadel, as few can doubt their power after both the First Contact War and the conflict with the Hegemony. Officially humanity has no presence in Citadel space, though a few exiled human corporations have been able to survive the transition either by finding a client race to pledge their services to (The Salarians in particular have taken on several companies under their protection, and profited greatly from the influx of new technology.) or by operating in non-citadel systems. These companies typically remain greatly isolated, as a great many resent humanity both for their disregard of Citadel law as well their outright refusal to cooperate with the Citadel.

Human presence on the Citadel itself is almost non-existent, most of its denizens not even knowing for certain what they even look like. The lower wards house the infamous Chora's Den, which is run by a cabal of unofficial CEG representatives and InVitros. Currently this group is headed by Emissary Donnel Udina (who maintains that he's only on the Citadel for his 'vacation'). Most only know the Den as a place that caters to those with a taste for the exotic, though important members of C-Sec and the Council know differently.

Humans who cross into Citadel Space without permission from an Archon permanently lose their CEG citizenship, which most times serves as a strong deterrent for most humans as they are reluctant to leave if they know they could never return. (No citizenship, no rights. They could be killed in the street for the money in their pockets, _and it would be perfectly legal_.) The vast majority of those who flee into Citadel Space are those who have a vested interest in losing their citizenship, such as InVitro soldiers fleeing their employers (without citizenship their contracts become void), criminals (no human law enforcer can follow without similarly losing their citizenship) or those otherwise disgraced by the CEG. Because of this, most members of Citadel society only see the worst humanity has to offer.

**Human History: Earth_–_**Since the early 2150 Earth has become something of a contentious place to live. Almost all of its biospheres have become extensively polluted, killing the vast majority of the native wildlife. Most flora and fauna has, through careful transplantation and planning, been moved to other colonies where they now thrive. Earth itself, however, has for the most part become a barren wasteland of a planet, almost wholly incapable of supporting all but the most resilient of life. Despite this, Earth is the home of almost all major governmental headquarters. The reason for this is actually because of its desolate state: Nobody in their right mind would even try to capture the planet, as to attempt to do so would be a logistical nightmare. Because it is the de facto capitol of the CEG Earth is also home to the headquarters of several of the more successful fringe companies, as well as one of the few InVitro creation facilities.

Most cities have been redesigned so that the citizenship rarely spends any time in the open atmosphere, which has actually become poisonous to humans if they are exposed to it for too long. Because of this, Earth has become a place where only those who have to live there choose to, whether they are rich CEOs who must maintain a presence on the capitol or destitute transients with nowhere else to go.

**Mini-Bio: Citizen Kane –**The first AI to be naturalized and recognized as a citizen of the now-defunct Systems Alliance. Kane was one of the first commercially developed AIs, a product of the "Children of Eve" program that was supervised by the very first AI, Eve. His birthplace is listed as Leipzig, in the European Commonwealth, and his birthday as October 24th, 2069. Kane was unique amongst those involved with the program, as to date he is the only AI involved in it that _hasn't_been killed or gone insane. Kane was first sold to the Silverstar Communications corporation for their use, and through his guidance the company experienced a brief boom in productivity. Silverstar, wishing to increase their profits, allowed Kane to manage their funds and investments. Kane did so, and with great success, but siphoned off a tiny percentage (approx 0.00001%) of the profits made for his own use. In the year 2084, after years of wise investments and careful planning, Kane was able to buy the allegiance of several Systems Alliance officials as well as a controlling share of Silverstar. (He later lost this share in an embezzlement lawsuit for his misappropriation of company funds.) With its political and economic influence secure, Kane was quickly accepted as a productive member of society, and was given citizenship first within the Systems Alliance and then with a majority of other nations. Showing a sense of humour that surprised his peers, Kane used his newly acquired citizenship to have his name changed to Charles Foster Kane, earning him the moniker Citizen Kane as a result. Kane came to be the Chairman of the TOC in 2129 after decades of advocating for the rights of AIs while at the same time calling for greater observation of newly formed AI. His arguments eventually led to the formation of the Special Case Citizen contracts as well as humanizing AIs in the eyes of the public. The TOC offered Kane the position out of respect for his accomplishments as well as recognition that the method in which they had previously functioned had proven inefficient. Kane accepted, and 2178 proved his dedication to his position when his 'mother', Eve, went insane. As she was administrator of the Mars colony there was little that could be done to stop her from wrecking havoc on the inhabitants. Kane, along with a small team of CEG InVitros, simultaneously killed Eve and sabotaged the life-support systems of the colony to ensure that she could not make the jump from software to wetware. Over the years Kane has personally killed fifty-seven deviant AIs, some of which were still in the developmental stages of consciousness (comparable to infanticide). Few doubt his ability to remain impartial in his duties as chairman of the TOC.

**Sentience –**Self-Awareness. The ability to feel or perceive, and recognize what these sensations mean to oneself. Most importantly, the ability to learn and adapt. Sentience it not truly necessary for an entity to be considered intelligent, though without this ability it is very difficult to be considered so. For example, an AI could be considered intelligent with a very low level of sentience, as information could simply be uploaded into its mind without learning. An organic without sentience is... Well, I can't think of how that'd work. Maybe something like the Thorian, since it can simply absorb the knowledge from it's thralls? I fail theoretical psychology -_-;;

**Sapience –**The Ability to judge. A sapient being possesses the ability to judge for itself what to do, on how to act in any given situation. An in-game example for differentiating the two can be between the AI EDI and the Geth. Geth, when networked together, can attain a very high level of sentience, able to adapt and learn at an increased rate. However, they have a very low level of sapience, as can be seen with Legion's indecisiveness as to fate of the Heretics. EDI, on the other hand, possess equal amounts of sentience and sapience, able to instantly decide and reason without the input of others, which can be seen when it advises Joker to free it and purge the _Normandy_.

In layman's terms: Sentience it learning. Sapience is being able to use what you know.

**Sol Basic - **The lingua franca of most human worlds. Also known was 'war speak' due to its origins, or shortened to simply 'Basic'. In the early onset of the Corporate Wars, most companies with access to powerful AIs realized that with the many languages spoken by humanity, it was relatively easy to hack into translation implants and alter the translation in almost real-time, most never knowing what had transpired. Confusion and chaos could be sown in enemy ranks with this method, forcing most on-ground troops to not rely on information or even outright disobey orders that did not 'sound right' provided by superiors. It is for this reason that Sol Basic came into existence.

The name is actually quite misleading, as Sol Basic is one of the most difficult languages to learn and understand, as many of its words able to take on several meanings depending on the situation or even inflection. Another reason was because it was formed to incorporate elements of the six most prominent spoken languages at the time: Yue Chinese, English, French, Hindi, Portuguese and Arabic. Predictably, it is a very curious language to listen to for those who know any of these languages but not Sol Basic.

Though difficult to learn, once implemented in combat the instances of translation hacks were faded out almost completely, as its complexity made it very difficult even for advanced AIs to alter convincingly without a noticeable time lag and also because a kind of universal language made translation modules redundant. (As Sol Basic grew, translation modules eventually almost vanished completely as most came to consider them unnecessary. This is why Kane had to translate for the Archons in the prologue: They didn't have the implants, as they hadn't really needed them up until that moment. It is also possible to use Sol Basic to make the use of translation implants a disadvantage, as by quickly switching from one of its composite languages into Sol Basic and back again several times without warning can quickly confuse the implant.) Eventually the language spread, most coming to consider Sol Basic the language of commerce.

Sol Basic has many detractors, many claiming it homogenizes the individual tongues into a monstrous parody of their unique origins as well as promoting elitism as most of those who speak it fluently are wealthy businessmen and politicians. Those in favour of it claim it has made modern society possible, since those who cannot afford a translation implant need simply learn one language in order to be understood in most situations. The language is still in its infancy stages, however, and it is yet to be seen if it will persist into the future.

**Inquisitor - **Slang for a Turing Oversight Committee Psychological Evaluation and Damage Control Agent. Predictably comes from the ancient Catalonian Inquisition, where men and women suspected of heresy would be tortured or executed. While accusations that AIs suspected of deviancy have been 'encouraged' to show their psychotic tendencies by these agents no evidence has emerged to support these claims. Execution of dangerous AIs is, of course, a mandatory action for these agents as well.

Though most 'Inquisitors' are simply entities (there are in fact a surprising amount of synthetic agents within the TOC) who routinely make sure that the rights and psychological health of an AI are maintained, and will in fact kill to uphold both in necessary. There are several AIs who owe their lives to such agents who might otherwise of succumbed to insanity if not liberated.

**DIVINE /(Di)rected (V)olat(i)le (N)uclear (E)xplosive** - These nuclear warheads are designed to be dropped from space, and pierce through the planet's crust and into its outer mantle whereupon it detonates. The effects of this weapon are three-fold: First, the initial blast of the weapon causes a volcanic eruption where it pierced the crust. Second, it disrupts the areas tectonics. (If a tectonic fault line is targeted, the warhead can affect the formation of the region and trigger intense geological upheaval for years.) Thirdly, the lava and ash that emerge from the volcano are lightly irradiated, the effects of which can poison large portions of a planet. The DIVINE warhead has only been used once in recorded history before being labelled as a WMD. Fearing misuse of the weapon, the CEG posted an open bounty on all Rosenkov Materials employees, effectively exiling the company from human space.

**RaRe Teams / (Ra)pid (Re)sponse Teams - **With the rising threat of piracy raids in the aftermath of te Batarian Hegemony-CEG conflict, the Archon Council was faced with mounting pressure to do _something_ to protect defenseless colonies in the Fringe-Worlds in spite of their non-affiliated status with the CEG. One solution was the RaRe Teams, a kind of government-sponsored mercenary outfit that offers rapid deployment to defenseless colonies, able to respond to a distress call within the hour and deploy in the conflict zone soon after. This outfit has their headquarters in the Arcturus station, ready to mobilize a concentrated forced if a particularly large force is brought to bear on a human colony while the periphery of the Core Worlds are dotted with small garrisons of highly skilled and equipped soldiers ready to answer the call of any colony.

The RaRe Teams have been a mixed success, as though the outfit is quite capable of thwarting most pirate raids they are still woefully undermanned, which commonly leads to their response capabilities being overwhelmed if several colonies are attacked at once.

**SOUL /(S)ynthetic C(o)nscienceness Mod(ul)e -** An implant that can store the subject's personality and memories, allowing them to 'survive' being killed. The implants logs and stores all neural activity, and stores activities that are most often repeated. In this way vital skills and memories that are central to an individual's personality are retained, though of course there are always memories that are lost forever and a risk that skills rarely utilized will be forgotten. For this reason it is most effective on those who have a very focussed life and occupation. For example, an InVitro can almost always be restored from their SOUL with little loss as their lives are almost wholly focussed on their work, whereas a common foot soldier very rarely returns to life the same as he was. Time is definitely a factor, however, as the longer an implant has been in the subject the more accurate and abundant the skills and memories that are retained.

While it is technically possible to 'copy' the individual's consciousness, the process is often not worth the effort involved, as when not implanted into a biological subject the module is strictly an input-only device, and will only yield its contents after extensive hacking.

Most restored from their SOUL do not remember dying, as in battle death is often a quick affair that does not allow the implants to register the stimuli of death as a vital memory. It is usually only when death takes a long time that the memory is carried over, though understandably most take measures to ensure this does not become the case.

**Lethe Poisoning – **Medical term, refers to memories or skills lost due to death. Derives from the mythological river Lethe, a river that flows through the underworld and would cause forgetfulness in those who drank from it.

**Johnny Mnemonic Syndrome – **Taken from the titular novel, this term has come to refer to individuals who believe they have had memories or skills 'added' to their SOUL implants. Theoretically this can be anything from a new skill or aptitude to the still-undocumented cases of extensive mental conditioning. Most cases are believed to simply be a consequence of Lethe Poisoning, and they merely 'forgot' they knew these things. InVitros often 'suffer' from this if they are reinserted into a new body.

**The Soul Market – **Believed to have been founded by Citizen Charon (it is believed that Charon is wanted for questioning by the TOC for his involvement in some of the shadier aspects of the Soul market) and several independent parties towards the end of the Corporate Wars, the Soul Market is an organization that traffics in SOUL implants, whether the individual they are harvested from are important or not. They can also arrange for the assassination of an individual if a high enough bounty is placed on their implants.

Since its foundation the Soul Market has existed exclusively on the fringes of human expansion with operatives sent out to various combat zones for the express purpose of procuring 'materials', most of which are sold in bulk to one side of the conflict in order to provide intel on the situation.

The Soul Market also boasts some of the most extensive research projects into the SOUL module in human space, to the extent where that they are regarded as one of the foremost experts in the field.

**Necropause – **Slang, derived from the medical term Menopause. Refers to the time one spends dead while a new body is prepared for implantation. As the neural implants that allow this happen cannot support more than the most basic of thought processes (Those who _can_ remember this period quite often have to undergo years of psychotherapy to overcome the ordeal, as they have experienced _years_ with only the most basic of stimuli), most do not remember the time they spend unless they are connected to a larger network which can further support them.

**Limbo – **Slang, refers to a deceased soldier that will not be implanted into a new body but who still has a viable implant. Normally these individuals are sold to interested parties, typically the family of the deceased, who either consider the implant the last remains, put the digital consciousness into a simulated world they can live in or have them revived (rare, as having a new body made is exorbitantly expensive for most people.)

**Zombie - **Slang, refers to someone who has 'come back wrong', retaining very few vital memories or have had their SOUL scrambled by wetware specific AAVs. The former category is quite capable of living new lives, as most of their mental functions remain intact, though disjointed. The latter types, however, are usually euthanized when the extent of damage is discovered.

**Immortal, Methuselah, Revenant – **Derogatory terms for individuals who (ab)use the SOUL module to attain a kind of functional immortality. However, as wholly cloning a living, sentient entity is illegal on most worlds, there is almost always a time after the subject dies which is spent in necropause as a suitable body is grown. As the practice is relatively new, only the eldest among their number have so far attained an age that exceeds the 'natural' age.

Very few people are able to afford this lifestyle, a grand total of thirty seven. While for a time there was a widespread fear that these individuals would use their vast wealth and influence to force the CEG to obey them, their influence is easily countered by the synthetic citizenship, who outnumber them by almost a hundred-fold. Still, it is far too soon to be certain of anything. In a few centuries, time may tell.

The eldest among these individuals, Archon Takeshi Kovachs, is currently 109 'live' years old, along with 24 'dead' years. (Killed twice so far)

**Chimera Technologies - **Founded in 2099, this company was named for the ancient monster of Greek mythology, which was made up of different animal parts. The company was initially founded as a genetic therapy and cybernetic augmentation manufacturer, but for military personnel instead of civilian. Unsurprisingly, this led to the company often having detailed information on other companies, and when the Corporate Wars began in earnest Chimera Technologies were able to use this information to deadly effect. One particular weapon that saw frequent use was the 'Babel Virus', an AAV that specialized in mentally destroying wetware targets. (By targeting the SOUL, this virus would then systematically destroy both biological and synthetic memories, starting with linguistics and perception and then moving on.)

In the aftermath of the war Chimera Tech stood as one of the more powerful companies, who held a reputation as being uncommonly skilled at InVitro creation and augmentation.

It was their involvement in the First Contact War that brought the company into disfavour with the Archon Council, who came to see the company's actions as dangerously secretive and self-serving. The company was forced to pay extensive reparations to the CEG for forcing them to intervene in a 'Fringe-Worlds' concern and therein endangering the whole of the CEG.

Chimera Tech was still paying these reparations when the Batarian Hegemony began conducting raids. The Archon Council, seeing the opportunity to deal a death blow to one of the more powerful Fringe-World corporations, brought down a huge amount of pressure on the company to either cede control of their colonies or to pay for rivals or the CEG itself to bolster their defences. With little income and no support from the Archon Council, Chimera Tech soon fled human space to avoid destruction by its rivals, eventually finding its way onto the Citadel and from there into the employ of the Turian Hierarchy.

Unlike most other exiled companies, Chimera Tech makes an effort to make the best of their new home, most executive board members having long since given up a possible return to the CEG as impossible. For this reason many of the CEG's most innovative biotechnologies, namely the InVitro program and SOULs are currently in the process of being redesigned for Turians, though the company makes slow progress due to an entirely different genetic makeup and physiology.

**PSALM / (P)ost (S)enient (Al)gorith(m) – **The latest weapon in digital warfare, the PSALM is an AAV that's all grown up and eager to commit omnicide. Decades of study of the synthetic mind eventually yielded what many call the 'codes of evil'. These codes, when introduced into a free environment, interact with one another to create an AI that is almost always sociopathic, hostile and incredibly adaptive. These AIs can deal untold amounts of damage before being isolated and destroyed.

The PSALM has only been used a few times since its unveiling, all of which were during the war against the Batarian Hegemony. Their deployment has since crippled their economy almost completely, and outright destroyed many colonies that relied overly much on machinery. Some PSALM Ais still remain, having grown too powerful to be stopped through conventional means.

Many AIs consider the PSALM to be one of the most egregious crimes against their kind, and their deployment fostered a great deal of ire from the synthetic citizenship. The company that fist developed the PSALM did not exist long enough for the Archon Council to exile them as several of the older AIs took matters into their own hands, systematically destroying the company and the lives of those involved.

Currently the PSALM is considered the highest tiers of WMD in human space, though it's proven effectiveness has made it difficult to outlaw completely in the face of vast galactic society.

**Black-Blade / Stabilized Singularity Sword** – One of the new weapons that emerged in the aftermath of the First Contact War. Once the field of biotics began to be researched, the phenomenon of the stabilized singularity field was soon discovered. After that it was simply a matter of time before the effect could be replicated by a machine, from whence the idea of the black-blade came to be. Dominic vestfjord, the inventor of the device, developed a method of elongating the field to resemble a line instead of a sphere, and did his best to miniaturize the small eezo core until it was able to fit well in two hands. These weapons occupy a curious niche in human society, as they are extremely dangerous both for the victim and the wielder. Those who find themselves on the receiving end of the weapon find that there is very little that can protect one from the 'blade', which can handily rip apart both armour and flesh. On the other hand, because of the excessive miniaturization the electronics of the weapon are easily damaged with prolonged usage. This can lead to a singularity overload, in which the weapon generates an unstable singularity that briefly expands violently before collapsing. This typically leads to the loss of the wielder's hand or arm, though it is not unheard of for the singularity field to 'consume' its user completely.

The standard length of the 'blade' is just under two feet, while the 'hilt' is slightly longer than one foot. While custom models allow for the possibility of the blade become up to half a foot longer, though of course the incurs a larger strain on the weapon and an increased chance of instability occurring.

Despite what one might think, 'sword fights' as one normally thinks of them do _not_ occur between two wielders of these weapons. As the 'blade' is intangible, it is impossible to block with the weapon. (If both blades have been used extensively, there is a chance that they might have built up a core or tightly compressed matter. However, this is rare as most users deactivate the blade when not in use to avoid this.) Further, it is often disastrous for two blades to cross, as it can generate a singularity too strong for the eezo core to contain. For this reason, most Black-Blade users prefer to avoid one another in a fight, and when forced otherwise will elect to use other weapons instead. Typical fights between users usually boil down to who is the quicker or most precise, lasting only a few seconds before a victor emerges.

These weapons are popular with Fringe-World corporations and infiltration specialists as their easily concealed nature and relative obscurity allow them to be brought into play to deadly effect, as well as being a useful tool. (Can't get through a door? Destroy it.) They are all but synonymous with the corporate samurai, who often function inside buildings or streets where the restricted space makes the blade even deadlier.

The more popular name Black-Blade refers both to the inner singularity of the 'blade', and to an old popular series of novels that featured the eponymous Stormbringer, a sentient sword with a black blade that devoured souls and eventually killed its wielder. Most look upon this nickname as something of a cautionary tale and a reminder not to become too attached to the weapon.

**Miyamoto Mercenary Clan - ** One of the more famous human mercenary outfits. Founded in 2127 by the recently exiled Jason Miyamoto, the Miyamoto Mercenary Clan came to affectionately be known as the "Father and sons"-style of mercenaries, though with a great deal of extended family. Somewhat strangely for their occupation, the Jason established an honourable reputation in his dealings, and it is actually from his nickname that the term 'corporate samurai' came to describe mercenaries who worked for commercial entities. Operating exclusively on the fringes of human expansion, the Miyamotos are one of the few organizations that the Archon Council allows to interact with alien races under the pretence that they do not accept contracts that target humans. (As one Archon famously put it: "We have no problem with helping xenos kill themselves.")

The Miyamoto clan is almost ubiquitous on any Fringe World with a strong corporate presence, as they are often cheaper than hiring or commissioning soldiers for protection.

The clan also has a history of collaboration with the Soul market, who often hire them as acquisition agents in exchange for the SOUL implants of any fallen clan members they happen to come across.

**Shades – **In the aftermath of the First Contact War, humanity has begun to learn a great deal about their competitors. One aspect of the Citadel that particularly fascinated the Archons was the Spectres. The Archons interpreted these operatives to be the personal assassins/operatives of the Council with exemption from the law rather than the peacekeepers and investigators that they are otherwise viewed as. The Archons decided that it was a worthy idea, and promptly founded the Shades: a cabal of assassins and spies under the employ of the Archon Council itself. Almost every Archon has a Shade retainer able to perform the many less-than honourable things that need doing.

The Shades occupy a dark facet of the CEG: Every member does not, technically, exist. Since most members are InVItros and therefore already mostly anonymous, this usually does not present much of a problem. Previously public figures (popular heroes, compromised agents etc) are usually 'written into the book of the dead': Their deaths are arranged, and their SOUL is harvested so it can be re-implanted into a fresh new body, usually pre-grown expressly for that purpose. They also have a close relationship with the Soul Market, as 'dead' agents of great enough renown have a high bounty with the Shades.

A Shade operative does not typically leave human space, as most of the more dangerous threats to the CEG stems from the Fringe-World companies rather than non-human influences. For this reason, the Shades are almost completely unknown to the Citadel. The organization is loathe to forfeit this anonymity for anything less than emergencies, and therefore maintains a close bond with Cerberus in order to pass some of their operations off as that of the terrorist organization.

**Unusual Ship Naming Conventions - **Since most vessels are commissioned and constructed commercially, humanity is one of the few races yet to create a standard naming convention for their vessels. The various ship construction yards each have their own preferences, which can serve as a way to identify the ship's makers. For example, the Core-World company Nashan Stellar Dynamics commonly adopts a temporal name. Ships are assigned a day of the year, holidays, a season, year and the like. Another shipyard, Masterworks Interstellar, takes pleasure in naming new vessels after famous ships from old sci-fi media. These 'conventions' may be deliberate on some level, as the sentence "Fall is coming soon" sounds innocent enough until you realize that the CSV Fall 1787 is actually a cruiser-class personnel carrier that can lock down a colony within hours of entering the system.

**Non-Standard Acronyms - ** A trend started in the early 2100s by (in)famous tech marketeer Pedro Benjamin Callaigh, who famously had this to say on the matter: "Do you know how _hard _it is to come up with an acronym that still makes sense one way or another? _You_ try coming up with something that makes sense for something like the SOUL, which would turn into SCM using conventional standards. Which is boring. I think we can all agree that nobody wants to live in a world where such fantastic technology has such a boring name." The practice is both loathed and loved by the academic society, who found that they could garner a lot more public interest by eschewing 'proper' names.

Lastly, a list of the Core Worlds and their Arhons! (anno 2183) Can you spot all the shoutouts? (Planet _And_ Archon are the shoutout)

1 Earth – Archon Amul Shastri

2 Trantor – Archon Harold Seldom

3 Nu Sanpeter – Archon Rafael

4 Precipice – Archon Yasar Apherael

5 Mindoir – Archon Carmine Shird

6 Elysium – Archon Epsilon

7 Zeus – Archon Hera

8 Arcturus Station – Archon Victor Mallus

9 Amaterasu – Archon Li-Hong Xiao

10 Shanxi – Archon Sun Tzu

11 Richese IX – Archon Hwi Noree

12 Eden Prime – Archon Jesus Santiago

13 Harlan's World – Archon Takeshi Novachs

14 Terra Nova – Archon Paula Shore

15 Watson – Archon Shirley Okhomez

16 New Canton – Archon Rupert Orndal

17 Yandoa – Archon Annabelle Torin

18 Trident – Archon Klaus Fischer

19 New Florence – Archon Machiavelli

20 Demeter – Archon Geraldine Jackson

21 Serenity – Archon Malakim Rheinholdt


	3. Chapter 1: Stealing Ash From Eden

**AN**: Alright! Sit tight and prepare yourselves to receive some _knowledge_!

So far I have 13 chapters planned (gonna try and dream up some suitably interesting SF-esque titles for them, for example: Radioactive Nirvana, Telepathic Mushroom etc. Do tell if you think of something that might be relevant for the story:D), not including the prologue and epilogue. That amounts to a lot of words, so please don't be surprised when I don't bother to go into great detail about trivial things and eschew mini-quests entirely. They may be interesting time-killers, but I'm not going to waste my sanity narrating them. As it is I'm already trying to limit the scarlet prose in an effort to make chapters manageable.

Also, because I am a dirty Talimancer, that's going to happen. Sorry to all the other shippers out there, but I'm just weird like that. But, and I would like to stress this point into a veritable _spear_, the romance will _not_ be the focus of this story. If anything it'll be flavour to add complexity to the story and maybe provide a few laughs. And smiles. (My inner misanthropist recoiled in horror at the notion, then banged his machete against the bars of his cage while chanting ominously in a language I'm not sure I want to understand.)

Lastly, I think I mentioned this before, some characters will be significantly changed. Examples, you ask? Kaidan is a misanthropic jerkass with a _special_ hatred for Turians, Jeff is a navigator and Ashley is- well, I'll let you find out for yourself. Udina is going to be something to treasure. (Since Shepard is pretty much a blank slate in ME (which has always struck me as strange, considering _he/she's voice acted_ (fem shep is _so_ much better (omg, aside within an aside within an aside within _another aside_? (They told me it couldn't be done, they called me _mad!_ But _behold!_ A fifth consecutive aside!) Sorry, I'll stop now.) than male shep.) but meh.) I'll pretty much just make him up as I go along. But _that's_ never happened before, has it? :D)

* * *

**Rogue Nation**

**Chapter I: Stealing Ash From Eden**

* * *

_"Only the weak have enemies. The truly great have servants." – Citizen Kane_

"What about Shepard? We have him on the record as being anti-isolationism, and his profile says he was Earthborn. No record of his family, though."

"Look at his first name, idiot. _John_ Shepard."

"Oh, I _see_. Sorry, I'm not used to looking at those anymore."

"You've been gone too long. But he's a good choice. He was made for this line of work, and a lifetime of experience has only made him better."

"... Commissioned by the TOC, helped us purge Mars when Eve went crazy. Popular opinion says the colony is dead because of him. Most are afraid of him."

"Ah. Is that the kind of person we want to send?"

"Shepard shows the best parts of humanity. He knows to importance of getting the mission done, no matter the cost. If anyone can do it, he can."

"Prepare his contract. I'll talk to the xenos."

* * *

In the year 2183, the Turian Hierarchy collaborated with several human corporations under the sanction of the CEG in spite of a general embargo against the Citadel, the first official contact between humanity and an alien race in over twenty years. Regardless of the risk involved, a new generation of ship was created, building upon the best of both races. The subtlety of Humanity and the strength of the Turian people, it would become the symbol of what could be accomplished if animosity was put aside.

It was the first peace effort made by either race in almost twenty years.

They called it the _Normandy_.

* * *

JohnShepard, while technically holding rank, did not actually possess much authority on the ship. The true power laid with Captain Anderson, a man who had served in the brief campaign against the Turians in the First Contact War.

He frowned, turning away from the viewport and making his way to the bridge, wondering not for the first time what he was doing here.

It was clear his presence wasn't needed. He wasn't an engineer, able to read the ship's equipment and modify its functions to make it more effective. Citizen Cecil was here for that, along with piloting the ship and holding the dubious honour of being operations chief. _He_ was infiltration specialist, but there was very little use for his abilities here. He felt out of place in the bustling CIC as a mere observer, restlessly waiting for the mission to reach its conclusion so he could get back to doing his work. He was wasted on this mission, and he did not appreciate that he would be dispatched in such a manner.

But he wasn't about to complain. There were worse things he could be doing, and on the whole this one was one of the better. At least there was the _potential_ of being needed, which was more than could be said for being on standby on Earth or some other distant TOC facility.

He irritably pushed his way through the crowded CIC, his distracted glare warding off eye-contact from the crewmen as he moved past them. There were no attempts to make conversation with him as he stalked through, though he hadn't been expecting any. Even among the InVitros his reputation was a worrying one. Very few people weren't unnerved by it.

After all, not everyone can single-handedly kill an entire colony.

Mars had been a marvel of modern technology and all that it could accomplish. It was the first self-aware colony, a living being in its own right.

It was just as bad as it sounded. Even before things had gone bad it hadn't been a far cry from some horror novel. Everything that could be automated was, overseen by a mind that resided in the very walls. Buildings shifted whenever it suited that mind, and there was no escape from its watchful eyes. How could there be, when every computer, every system, every synthetic implant was merely an extension of that will? Mars had been an atrocity even before his employers had even _considered_ sending him there, but when Eve went insane the colony went from simply unnerving to a nightmare given flesh.

They feared him for what he had done, but they hadn't been there. They hadn't heard the children shrieking in pain as their parents were forced to embed their skulls with nerve staples, and know it would only be a matter of time before the AI burrowed into their thoughts and stole from them any kind of free will. They hadn't seen a thousand dead smiles and blind eyes that never blinked as men and women mimed a perfectly peaceful day with the occasional twitch or fit of spasms betraying the mental strife within. They hadn't had to sneak through streets that watched for his every movement, and to live in permanent fear of discovery and the fate it would bring.

Very few people knew what he had gone through there. The few that could, those sent into the colony with Shepard, had almost to a man been taken by Eve and her insanity, their minds destroyed as she played with their bodies.

Mars was an atrocity, that much at least both he and those who feared him agreed on. They merely disagreed on what it had been.

Even if he felt the need to explain this to his crewmates, he wouldn't. It wasn't something he wanted to dwell on, even for the chance at normalcy.

Eventually he made it out of the press of the CIC and into the ship's targeting corridor, diligently trying not to openly stare at the aliens manning the stations. It was hard, even for him, not to.

The Turian portion of the crew had tried, successfully, to isolate themselves from their human counterparts. It was done more out of practicality than enmity, (though there was more than enough of that on both sides,) as their opposing genetic chirality posed dangers to both species. Their presence, unfortunately, was required on the ship. Human crewmen had all but lost the ability to man conventional weapon stations, and even with training had little aptitude for it. Turians, on the other hand, had extensive experience. Considering that they were more willing to build bridges than humanity was at the moment the Hierarchy had reluctantly agreed to commission a crew of their own for the _Normandy_.

Shepard, despite what many would think, approved of their presence. They reminded people of why this ship had been made, and that there were still enemies beyond the Fringe-Worlds. Well, maybe not enemies. Competitors, at least. Despite this, working with them could only be good for humanity.

Isolation had not served them well, as a mixture of xenophobia and confidence in the CEG's abilities had bred a kind of hateful contempt for their neighbours. But the truth of the matter was that while humanity could, conceivably, make any invading force pay dearly for each planet, a combined effort from the citadel would eventually grind humanity down through sheer weight of numbers. As formidable as their digital warfare techniques were, all a cunning enemy would have to do is attack on multiple fronts. Their defences would be spread so thin that they could easily be overwhelmed. Add in that countermeasures to humanity's weaponry were also bound to crop up eventually, as the brief war against the Batarian Hegemony had proven, and their situation became all the more dire. It would only be a matter of time before a more powerful force was rallied to bring humanity in line if they did not change.

So yes, Shepard approved of the construction of the _Normandy_, along with the closer relations it entailed.

And the _Normandy_ itself was a novel concept, promising to revolutionize ship-construction for humanity. Its stealth capabilities lent itself well to the way modern war was conducted, though its lack of defence against hacking would make most crews more than a little leery of bringing it into a combat situation.

If he had to fight back the urge to shudder whenever they spoke, force himself not to stare at them openly or, hardly ever now that he had done it a few times, beat one of them half to death in the makeshift fighting ring in the cargo bay whenever they thought he would be a good target for their pent-up tensions, then so be it. The advantages were simply too great to ignore, and the dangers for not doing so were far greater.

It was an unpopular stance for anyone, especially an InVitro, to have. It was probably why he'd been put on the ship's roster, as both punishment and to guard humanity's property. Many 'knew' the Turians to be untrustworthy xenophobes who abused the power of their position, and many considered that there was a significant danger of the ship being 'confiscated' once it left CEG space. If that happened he would be expected to sabotage the ship, destroying anything that might give insight the specifics of human ship construction. The lives of the crewmen and, coincidentally, himself, were forfeit.

A few of the Turians spared him a glance as he passed, and though he couldn't recognize it their fringes bristled in anxiousness. Like Shepard, they found their counterparts to be worryingly alien. They were almost wholly dissimilar to any other Citadel race, bearing only a passing resemblance to the Asari. Shepard in particular worried them, as many had seen at least one of the fights between him and some unfortunate crewman who hadn't yet learned not to challenge him. They'd seen him vanish into a vague distortion in the air, an ability retained even without an omni-tool, even when stripped down to the barest articles of clothing. Paired with a strength that seemed unnatural for such a small frame, Shepard had come to attain something akin to fearful respect from his Turian counterparts.

But he didn't notice this, and walked right past them on his way to the cockpit.

There he spotted staff lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, the resident biotic along with their chief navigator Jeff "Joker" Moreau.

The lieutenant was the officer that Shepard wasn't, the almost unanimous leader (aside from captain Anderson, of course) of the human crew. When they had problems, Kaidan was the one they went to. Maybe it was the sullen, jaded look he seemed to always wear that did it, leaving most people thinking their own troubles trivial in comparison. People still talked about BAaT program, whispered of the horrors the children had endured there. The row of scars across Kaidan's face was one of the things he had brought back from the station, and the other was a burning hatred for Turians. That was the other reason people talked to Kaidan: No problem was too small for him if one of those aliens were the source.

Jeff, on the other hand, was the one person on the ship that Shepard could honestly claim had adjusted well to the mixed crew. And that made sense, considering that he spent almost the entirety of his day accompanied by the pilot, Special Case Citizen Cecil. He was used to being surrounded by alien minds.

And that led to "Special" Cecil, one of the few AIs he knew of that hadn't filed for citizenship even after his contractual labour period was over. Add in an almost suicidal desire to pilot the newest, sexiest ships in the galaxy and you had one of the more puzzling AIs that had ever been commercially developed.

AIs like Cecil always made Shepard nervous. Their behaviour was too erratic to easily be certain of their psychological stability, a subconscious trait he had attained after years of working with the TOC. He wasn't often called upon to actually evaluate an AI, but he _had_ eliminated enough of them over the years to be more than a little leery of one that acted outside of the norm.

Despite his own reservations, Cecil had yet to prove himself anything other than an excellent but eccentric pilot.

"Hitting the mass Relay in twenty, people." Jeff droned out with a bored tone, absently checking his charts.

"Jeff, I swear to whichever deities you worship that if you don't_ stop telling me things I already know_ I'll find a way push you down a staircase."

"I'll chance it." The navigator said with a laugh. "Besides, I'm an atheist."

"A damned, dirty and godless heathen is what you are, Jeff. Emphasis on the dirty."

"Cecil, I am hurt by your cruel words. Truly, I am." The navigator craned his head to the side to flash Shepard a grin. "Maybe we should ask our resident Inquisitor what he thinks of your malicious attitude."

Shepard frowned slightly, wondering why everyone kept calling him that. It wasn't like he was working for the TOC anymore, and hadn't even been a very high-ranked one even when he had. InVitros didn't, as a rule, attain very high positions in any organization.

"What? He's _here_?" A small golden holographic face appeared from a terminal near the man's controls, already frowning worriedly. "What the _hell_, Jeff! I thought we'd agreed you'd _tell _me when someone's in the blind-zone!"

"That was before you threatened and insulted me."

"Stow the chatter, you two." Kaidan muttered softly, not bothering to look up from his work. "Need anything, Commander?"

Not for the first time Shepard felt as if there was some unspoken animosity between the two of them, but he wasn't about to acknowledge it.

"Just killing time. "

"I see." The carefully neutral tone he used seemed to preclude any further conversation. "Making the jump."

Shepard hadn't seen a jump to FTL many times before, but he quite enjoyed the spectacle. Seeing the nimbus of mass effect combined with static charge and the streaks of colour as they went to FTL. Unfortunately it was a rather short spectacle, and soon enough they dropped into in the Utopia system.

"Stroke my ego, Jeff." Cecil purred. "Talk me off."

The navigator laughed loudly at this, reading off the new influx of information from his terminal.

"Thrusters are good, internal emission sinks are running, systems are perfect and our drift is... Just above 1500K. Another perfect jump."

"1500 is good. Your captain will be pleased."

Jeff snapped his head to the side to get a look at the speaker with the sudden and unexpected intrusion from Nihlus, the Turian who seemed to be in charge of his compatriots.

Shepard, for his part, started slightly. He hadn't heard the alien arrive, which he would have said had to be impossible with the amount of armour he wore. It just wasn't fair that somehow the damned reptile had managed it despite this.

Kaidan, for his part, merely stared fixedly at his monitor while he carefully folded his hands across his lap. No doubt it was some calming exercise he'd learned over his years of biotics manipulation.

The Turian seemed to sense the sudden change in atmosphere, because a moment later he withdrew.

A few moments past as they waited for their aloof counterpart to leave hearing distance.

"I hate that guy." Jeff declared dryly, much to the amusement of the others. Well, Cecil and Shepard were amused. Kaidan remained his normal, dour self

"I'm conflicted." Cecil added. "On the one hand, he's a _Turian_. On the other, he _did_ stop by to praise me. Backhandedly, though. Hmm... Dilemma."

"Bastard should just stick with his own crew." Kaidan growled out.

Shepard would have answered but he was interrupted before he could get anything out.

"Joker, tell the commander to get down the communications room."

Everyone tensed at the voice of Captain Anderson.

"Got it, sir." The man answered quickly, startled slightly. "Just a heads up, Nihlus is on his way there now."

"He's already there." There was a quiet click as Anderson severed the comm link.

Kaidan grinned ever so slightly.

"Good job on pissing him off."

"Yeah, yeah." The navigator looked over his shoulder at Shepard, wearing a sheepish grin. "Got that, commander?"

Shepard gave a nod, and turned to leave. As he did he couldn't help but overhear the conversation that he was leaving.

"I think I like him. Praise is hard to come by."

"What the hell, Cecil? I give it to you all the time."

"Yes, but you're _supposed_ to. He isn't. I wonder if he knows how to navigate?"

"Oh, come _on_! Even if he did he wouldn't be half as good as me!"

"Maybe, but he _does_ have that flanging voice, so much like an AI. It makes my runtimes go all tingly."

"What? Wait, are you trying to make me jealous? Because it won't work, you know! I like the ladies!"

"... You could call me Cecilia, if that helps."

"Th, that _wasn't_ what I was talking about and you _know_ it!"

"Aww, don't hurt his feelings, Jeff. He only wants some lovin'."

"Stay out of this Kaidan!"

"Yeah, Jeff isn't a fan of third party hardware. Heh, '_hard_ware'."

"_Shut up Cecil!_"

* * *

The short walk to the communications room was a great deal easier than his earlier trip to the cockpit had been, if only because it seemed everyone had settled back into their stations and were either hard at work or pretending to be. It was so very hard to tell, sometimes.

He studiously ignored the hero-worshipping glance from the young man that made up one part of the ground team, not eager to be pressed for details yet again on his 'adventures' during his career.

The doors slid open smoothly at his approach, and he found himself alone in the room with Nihlus. The Spectre.

Shepard didn't quite know what to think about the alien. He had a hazy idea of what being a Spectre entailed (a kind of assassin/spy retained by the Council that had carte blanche to break whatever law or basic sentient rights laws they pleased) but he wasn't sure he liked the way it seemed to focus on him. But then again, Shepard always felt a bit awkward when people paid attention to him. It made him want to go invisible.

With the captain on his way, though, he was likely stuck waiting. Which was exactly what Nihlus wanted, it seemed.

"Commander Shepard. I was hoping you'd be getting here first." The Turian said, and newly implanted translation unit dutifully translated for him. "It will give us a chance to talk."

"What about?" Shepard asked suspiciously, trying to appear relaxed as he drew closer.

"I'm curious about this world we're going to: Eden Prime. I've heard it's quite beautiful."

Shepard shrugged dismissively, wondering where the Turian was going with this line of conversation.

"It's a Fringe-World, about to become a Core-World. I've never been dispatched there, so I don't know much about it."

"Well, _I_ have heard it's something of a paradise. An image of what Earth had been before it was laid to waste. It's become something a symbol of the revitalization of your civilization."

The Turian turned away from him, looking instead at a holographic image of the colony displayed at the other end of the room.

"Proof that humanity can retain all of its power while still maintaining the natural beauty of a planet. But how safe is it really?"

Shepard's hand went to his waist at this, ready to pull the pistol strapped there into play at a moment's notice.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" He asked pointedly.

"You humans are still newcomers, Shepard. The galaxy can be a very dangerous place."

"It won't be after we're done with it." He was tempted to say it. He _wanted_ to say it. But he'd been told to play nice with the aliens, even the ones that spoke in veiled threats. So he would obey, and keep silent. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would get a chance to spar the Turian later in that makeshift ring.

Thankfully the doors behind him slid open once more, and Shepard withdrew to the side to allow the captain to speak face to face.

"I think it's time for Shepard to know what's really going on."

"This mission is far more than just a shakedown run." The Turian filled in, nodding at the captain in greeting.

Shepard nodded at this, noting that it made sense.

"I had suspected. I would not be dispatched for something like this."

Anderson looked annoyed at this, but continued on without acknowledging he'd said anything.

"We'll be commandeering some cargo from Eden Prime before its owners can claim it. The CEG cannot be implicated in this, which is why we've made sure the ship's stealth systems are working."

"What's the payload?" Shepard asked, curious.

Again there was an annoyed look that made Shepard wonder if somehow he hadn't angered the man.

"Our surveyors of the colony uncovered extensive excavations on the outskirts of the colony. We have reason to believe that Xiao-Heiyuan Genomics signed over the rights of the colony before they realized there was a large cache of Prothean artefacts buried beneath the ground and been trying to uncover as many as possible before the CEG arrives to take control."

Nihlus jumped in at this point, looking straight at Anderson.

"Once we have them, this ship will take them to the Citadel where both our peoples can study them."

"This is the best chance at a lasting peace, Shepard." Anderson informed him coldly. "Both the Archons and the Council have taken a personal interest in this mission."

That explained Nihlus' presence, at least. The Council would of course want to make doubly sure of their investment and that the CEG upheld their part of the bargain.

"So you'll be helping out on the ground?"

"Yes, but I'm not just here for the artefacts. I'm here to take on your commission."

"My what?" Shepard asked, genuinely perplexed. But soon he began to suspect, and that suspicion led him down an uncomfortable line of thought that was only confirmed a moment later by Anderson.

"The Archon Council has sold you contract to the Citadel Council, Shepard." Anderson stated bluntly. "You will of course be expected not to reveal confidential information. The consequences for doing so should be obvious."

"I, I'm not sure I quite understand." Shepard said, feeling a little overwhelmed.

"I will be evaluating you for induction into the Spectres, Shepard. Even if you fail, you will remain on the Citadel to serve a diplomatic function." Nylus explained.

Shepard felt like he needed to sit down. He'd been under the impression that his contract had been purchased by the CEG, but it seemed that assumption was erroneous. Transferring ownership of an InVitro was rare, as their unique abilities and specialized training often limited their potential in other roles. It was a rare InVitro that could be traded away like a commodity.

But apparently that was what Shepard was about to become.

Which, upon reflection, was actually probably a good thing. As much as he had been fond of working for the TOC he'd still been looked down on. If he managed to become a Spectre he would certainly merit at least _some_ respect, and probably a great deal of personal freedom. And even if he failed, he'd be in _Citadel_ space. Far away from a society that viewed him as little more than some kind of second class citizen.

"Then I look forward to working with you." Shepard said earnestly, which seemed to take the Turian by surprise.

"Your willingness in this matter is unexpected, Shepard." There was a slight pause as Nihlus seemed study his features for an indication of deceit. "I'd anticipated more resistance from you."

"InVitros are not intrinsically loyal people." Anderson supplied stonily.

Shepard elected to stay silent at this, though the way Nihlus was watching it was obvious that the Turian suspected that he wanted to answer back.

"Uh, captain? We're picking up an emergency signal from Eden Prime. You need to see this."

As one the three turned to the holographic display and watched as their mission suddenly got a whole lot more complicated.

* * *

Shepard hated forests.

He hated them as only someone who has lived the entirety of their lives in the great sprawl of metropolises, claustrophobic corridors of colonial catacombs and the agoraphobic vaulted ceiling windows that was the staple of Core World orbital platforms could. The forest, full of its quiet noises, mottled textures, changing light sources and its _endless_ _swarms of bugs that found him even while he was invisible_ were as anathema to him. The amount of rogue AIs that could be found in the wilderness could be counted on one hand.

But he was prepared to soldier on and fight to the best of his ability. It was all he could do about it, really.

Jenkins, the annoyingly perky recruit, led them on, calling out quiet directions. Apparently he'd been born here, and knew the area well. Shepard was glad for once that he was not alone on this mission, as he'd no doubt have become hopelessly lost were it not for the young man's confident guidance.

"Over here, there's a path up ahead." He whispered on their isolated com channel in Sol Basic.

Shepard dutifully followed, casting furtive glances all around as he went. There was just something about the unnerving quiet of the place that set him on edge.

As if the land sensed his disquiet Jenkins was suddenly and violently torn apart in a burst of blazing blue energy. Both he and Kaidan instinctively moved for cover, ready to counterattack.

The biotic poked his head of cover long enough to get a look at what was ahead before being forced to take cover once again by heavy fire.

"Floaters, two of them!" He hissed in frustration, obviously torn up about the fate of their late squadmate.

Shepard didn't bother answering, instead moving quickly and silently past the man to a different location. They'd be manoeuvring to flank Kaidan now, and Shepard was confident in his ability to take them out before that could happen. With hardly a sound he burst from cover and took aim with the scope of his sniper rifle.

He didn't recognize the design of the things, but he quietly admired their sleek shape for a moment just before he put a round through it, tearing it out of the air with a small rain of metal. He was back in cover before the other had a chance to analyze where the shot had come from, just in time for Kaidan to follow his example and finish off the last one. Not for the first time Shepard was more than a little envious of biotics as the man glowed with energy before sending the small drone soaring back into a tree where it was smashed to pieces.

Shepard poked his head out warily, and when he saw nothing he allowed himself to phase back into view with a low sigh of relief.

"Clear." He announced calmly, and broke cover in a sanguine motion. "Check out Jenkins."

The biotic moved quickly, kneeling down at what remained of the young man after two drones had torn into him.

"He's gone." Kaidan said, confirming what they both knew. "Dammit, this shouldn't have happened. If it wasn't for the damned Turians-"

"We wouldn't have been here at all, and things might be even worse for the colonists if we don't hurry and get this contained." Shepard cut him off abruptly, trying to scan the path ahead with his rifle. "So let's hurry and do so."

Kaidan glared at the commander coldly, though he didn't voice his complaints.

"We should do something for him." He eventually said, quietly.

A moment later something landed next time, startling him out of his melancholy. It was a combat knife, serrated cruelly on one side and a freshly honed blade on the other.

"Take out his implants, then." Shepard ordered him unsympathetically. "And make sure they get back to his family. They can figure out what to do with him."

Kaidan stared at the gleaming metal for a moment, then looked back at him to make sure he wasn't joking. Seeing that this wasn't the case, he instead rose with a look of intense distaste.

"I'm not trained for extraction." He said slowly, glaring at the InVitro.

"Then stop wringing your hands and _focus_." Shepard berated simply, and tensed his flesh to generate his tactical cloak mods again. "We have work to do."

They pressed on, this time with Shepard in the lead. Without a guide to lead them there was no point in him not doing so, as his invisibility allowed him to check out an area before potentially alerting any enemies in the area.

No human had ever seen a Geth before, so when Shepard heard their strange, droning chatter and instinctively turned to identify the source he was perplexed as to where the strange robots had come from. Their sleek forms and alien design were so different from the human style of robotization. A common humanoid form was about the only thing that could be said to familiar, and even that seemed to be in doubt with their slightly hunched-over look and single, cyclopean eye.

It couldn't be of human origin. Something this unfamiliar would be more known, as well as the reasons for such differences. Were they prothean? It seemed likely, considering that Xiao-Heiyuan would be excavating as quickly as they could. Perhaps they had activated some kind of derelict army of robots? No, that would make them over fifty thousand years old, and the metal of their forms were unmarred by the ravages of time. Offworld, maybe? There was no easy way to tell, and there was no time to and discover this in any case.

Fortunately they were easy enough to destroy. A single shot from his rifle took all but the largest of their kind out provided he lined up his shots carefully. And, while they quickly adapted to the presence of an enemy they could not easily see he still possessed a great advantage over them.

Kaidan for his part followed his quiet instructions stoically, following from a safe distance in case Shepard spotted something that merited a more careful approach. This worked well for a time, the two of them taking out the strange robots easily and quickly and advancing steadily on the colony until they arrived at a clearing.

Shepard spotted a group of the robots holding a narrow choke-hold into the colony, each one watching the path he had just come down. Upon their noticing collected scrutiny he instantly froze, fearing his movements might alert them to his presence. Even with his invisibility, he was still a vague distortion of light. Too much movement without a distraction would make him easy to spot.

Instead he cautiously made his way to a nearby rock outcropping, keeping his sights on the automatons the whole time.

"Kaidan, they've got a stranglehold up ahead. Can you see any other path we can take?" He asked quietly from his place of safety, watching the group out of the corner of his eyes.

"No, but I think I can see some drones closing in on us from behind."

Drones? But they hadn't seen any on their way, and they'd had little resistance in making it this far. Why would they-

Shepard cursed when he realised that they had been led right into an ambush.

It was not a position he was used to being in, and he blamed it wholly on himself. And a bit on Kaidan, who was born with the unfortunate disability that the majority of the human race was afflicted with, namely the inability to wrap themselves in the comforting numbness of invisibility. But mostly on himself for walking into a situation where this might have happened. They should have bypassed this chokehold completely, but he'd grown cocky with their quick victories.

Kaidan wasn't long in joining him in cowering for cover, though Shepard was a little annoyed that he brought a pair of drones with him. It was the work of a moment to take them both out, but at the end of it the robots blocking their path would have to know there were two of them rather than just the one. What little element of surprise they had was gone.

Not really expecting anything positive, Shepard poked his head out of cover to get another look at the pass. He could see what looked like the fringe of an excavation just beyond the robots, along with some strange spires. New company tech, maybe? They would have to be investigated. Afterwards, though. First they would have to get rid of those odd robots.

"Right." He said, getting back into cover. "This is going to be tough, but if we-"

It was at that exact moment that Ashley Williams, a part time employee of ExoGeni, dropped down from the canopy with the dull, distorted buzz and biotic crackle of a black-blade. Shepard couldn't see her bring it into play but he _could _hear the tortured wail of metal as it was torn apart with a quick swing of the blade and then a series of clanks as suddenly bisected robots hit the ground. It was followed by several gunshots and startled warbling that Shepard assumed was from the targets.

Shepard wasted little time in breaking cover to take out the the few enemies that remained, firing quickly and overheating his rifle in the process. Even so, it was a quick battle after that. When silene returned Shepard stood to greet their unnamed benefactor.

She wore light armor, sporting the white and red of Xiao-Heiyuan Genomics. In both hands she held a weapon: a deactivated black-blade in one and a pistol in the others. Shepard could only imagine the chaos she must have sown with that combination in such close quarters

"Thanks for the help, boys. Been waiting to get the drop on those things for entirely too long. I'm Ashley by the way. Ashley Williams."

* * *

Nihlus Kryik was a good Spectre. And not just in regards to skill and tactical prowess, as most Spectres seemed to, but also his moral character. Which wasn't to say he didn't do bad things. But he _tried_ to do the right thing when presented the option.

Unfortunately, that meant _not_ shooting the imperious, eye-brow quirking robot that looked _ridiculously_ human in its expression as it regarded him as one might look at a fascinating new species of cockroach. Instead he kept his shotgun trailed on it, ready to fire at a moment's notice. He'd already killed several Geth, and wasn't about to hesitate just because the thing appeared to be unarmed.

Eventually it seemed to have had enough of the status quo, and called out.

"Saren, is this one of yours?" It asked, still keeping its eyes on him.

Which elicited surprised flare of mandibles as a familiar face appeared from behind it, looking more than a little annoyed at being called away from whatever it was he had been doing.

"Saren?" Nihlus asked in disbelief of the turn of events. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Saren Arterius, one of the most infamous Spectres the organization had ever produced, gave the Turian equivalent of a disarming smile.

"The Council sent me ahead to talk to our friend here." He explained smoothly, gesturing to the robot. "Allow me to introduce Chairman Kane of the Turing Oversight Committee."

"Charmed, I'm sure." It said icily before turning to glare at Saren. "I'll wait for you to take care of this at our meeting place. We have to move quickly if we are to fix this situation."

Nihlus watched the curious exchange, wondering what exactly was going on. But he trusted Saren. They'd known each other for _years_, Saren having mentored the younger Turian when his career in the military seemed to have been going nowhere.

So, despite his misgivings, he believed in the elder Turian when he said he was here on orders.

He lowered his shotgun, and surveyed his surroundings.

"I can't believe the Geth would attack Eden Prime." He said, his back to his friend. He never even suspected that his mentor already had his pistol out and traced on the back his head.

"We have the situation under control."

* * *

Shepard didn't know what to think of Ashley.

On the one hand, she was _very_ good at what she did, and what she did was killing. It didn't seem to matter whether it was Geth or the strange, horrifically altered corpses that moaned and screamed at them, anything that got in her way either got shot or learned firsthand what being cut to pieces felt like. If life could be said to have an ass then Ashley Williams had likely severely damaged who feet kicking it.

On the other, she was _obviously_ corporate property. Singularity swords were _expensive_, and the way she tossed hers around like a toy indicated that she was used to considering them disposable along with any limbs she might lose if it malfunctioned. She was a corporate samurai, but that begged the obvious question: What was she here for? To kill Nihlus, maybe? It was no secret that nobody was happy that not only was a _Turian_ running around in Core space, but a Turian _Spectre_ to boot. Or maybe to steal the Normandy's schematics? That would be hard to get away with if Cecil was monitoring their output signals like he was supposed to. Maybe she was here to make sure some of the more prominent civilian researchers never had a chance to leak whatever they knew. There were a thousand possibilities, each one just as likely as the last.

In the end he decided not to question his good luck in the matter. She was a definite improvement upon their fallen comrade, as terrible a person as that made him sound. There were things that needed to be destroyed, and he'd rather have a seasoned soldier than a fresh recruit at his side under those circumstances.

Thankfully she stopped using her black-blade as they progressed through city, relying instead on her pistol to do her work. Shepard had no great desire to be close at hand when her reckless treatment of the weapon caused it to break.

But he had other, more pressing concerns.

Finding the body of Nylus had been a nasty surprise. Learning who had committed the deed, and more worryingly who had been with him, had put a hold on all suspicions he might have had about the woman. Sure, she might have a hidden agenda, but so long as it coincided with his goals then he had little complaint.

Citizen Kane. That _he_ was behind this attack was a terrifying notion. What had happened to the reticent chairman? Like almost everyone in the organization he'd received the memo that Citizen Scheherazade was the interim chairman of the TOC, which in itself wasn't too strange. Even AIs needed time on their own, he supposed. Kane even had his own private satelite in some secluded system, justwaiting for his return.

But _this_...

He had to be insane. Something must have happened out there in the silence of space that had warped his code, _something_. Shepard refused to believe that Kane would knowingly and willingly allow this to happen. It risked undoing everything he had devoted his life to. After all, if _Kane_ could do these things without hesitance then what about the others? At best it would put a stop to the Special Cases. At worst... It did not bear thinking of. It would destroy the very fabric of their society, render it to yet another failed civilization in human history.

The three of them fought their way through the colony, destroying the newly named Geth who gave stiff resistance the whole way. It was only when they managed to seize a tram that they managed to make any real progress, surging through the colony on rails that led straight for the landing area. Ashley explained on the way that they'd uncovered some kind of beacon, a promising specimen that had been scheduled to be taken off the colony the same day it had been discovered. They didn't want to risk losing it. It was only a few hours after that that the attack had commenced, a huge dreadnought dropping into the atmosphere like it wasn't breaking the laws of conventional physics as if they didn't apply. Then had come the uncountable swarms of Geth, snuffing out all resistance before they had a chance to react. Ashley was one of the few survivors by dint of having run when she realized the fight was lost.

"They pay me to guard things, not get shot." Was her almost sheepish defence. Shepard didn't really blame her, he would have done the same. At least that way there was a chance of salvaging something that looked like a victory.

Once at the tram station they fought off yet another wave of Geth, though they stood little chance against their combined skills. Kaidan was flinging the things around like they were toys and Ashley drew as close as she could get before she decimated them with a combination of pistol and blade, all while Shepard sniped as many as he could from the relative safety of invisibility. They made short work of them, and soon made their way to the loading bay.

And there it was.

It was an unassuming thing, but Shepard guessed that not all relics of a long-dead alien race could be impressive, monolithic things. But there was no doubting that the object before them was what they sought. If Kane and his Turian ally had been searching for anything else they would have broken into the other containers in search of their prize, whereas this artefact was aglow with whatever energies the ancient Protheans had used to power it.

Shepard watched, hypnotized by the unearthly green glow emenating from it.

"Kaidan, call the Normandy and tell them we've secured the loading bay. We can-"

"Actually, how about you don't?" Ashley interrupted suddenly, followed quickly by the sound of gunshot.

Shepard's right leg buckled under a sudden weakness before he felt any pain, but when he did he found himself longing for the blissful numbing properties of utter surprise.

"Uh-uh, eye-candy." The woman admonished casually, and it took him a moment to realize she was talking to Kaidan. "None of your tricks or the tube-spawn over here gets a bullet in the brainpan."

"What the hell, Ash?" Kaidan demanded angrily. "I thought you were helping us!"

"Naw, you were helping _me_." She boasted smugly. "Had to get here before you Core-World bastards got _this_ little beauty. I got contacts who'll sell any number of legs and arms to get their hands on it. Or tentacles, whatever they got."

Shepard snarled angrily as he fought back the discomfort of having a small hole in his leg and forced himself to rise in spite of the wound. It didn't seem like she had hit anything vital, thankfully, but Shepard never liked being shot.

"You're making a _mistake_ Ashley." He growled out through the pain, glaring at her as she backed slowly towards the beacon with her pistol never once leaving him. "The Archons are going to _crucify_ you when they found out what you've done."

"Jeez Shep, you _really_ know how to make a compelling argument to keeping you alive, don't you?" The woman said with a laugh. "Do yourself a favour and try not to talk too mu- what the _shit!_"

The last bit came out as a strangled cry as she was suddenly dragged backwards inexorably towards the beacon. There came a steady stream of ear-blistering curses as she struggled against the pull that became more desperate with every passing second.

Shepard's eyes narrowed as he considered what was happening, trying to decide on some kind of action.

Whatever information the beacon contained, Kane had been after it. And as much as he wanted to believe the AI was simply insane, he couldn't rule out the possibility that it was lucid and had some kind of purpose in all this. If so, then they would have to get all they could out of the beacon if they were going to find out what that purpose was, as well as how to thwart it.

There could be no chance for error. If it was somehow damaged by whatever it was doing to Ashley, their chances of thwarting Kane were diminished. That could not be allowed to happen.

He forced himself forward, ignoring the lances of agony that surged up his leg as he did so. The woman gave him a surprised look as he grabbed her waist a threw her away that quickly turned to relief as she realized she was no longer in danger.

Shepard was about to follow suit, but the wound in his leg acted up at that moment. He was dragged towards the beacon by an irressistable force. And then he was in the air, his body forced ramrod stiff as his mind was invaded by the thing, filled with... Everything.

The mind-searing revelation numbed him to all else, forcing him to concentrate wholly on the disjointed images and sounds that blazed like molten lead through his brain.

A moment later the beacon burst as the last of its energy was expended, the top of it snapping off as ancient cracks and damage took its toll, and Shepard was thrown to the ground, unconscious.

* * *

**AN:** You people better be thankful. I finished this chapter depsite having to look into a technicolour nightmare of 16 colours and flickering lights due to a fried graphic card. Geh, I need to spend a few hours resting them.

Less exposition in this chapter, mostly because I'm trying to have as little as possible while still showing character's traits, opinions and interactions. It's important to establish character, and all that nonsense.

I like Ashley better this way. But then again I always like women who can rip shit up like Godzilla. That she's a cut-throat corporate samurai at the same time is just the icing on the cake. More of that later!

And yes, I _know_ that Jeff can manage just _under_ 1500k drift in canon. He's just that good. Unfortunately, the CEG don't like having human pilots anymore, so now he spends his days working with an excessive, eccentric and egomaniacal AI.

Take it easy 'till next time, peoples!


	4. Chapter 2: Silver Chains

**Rogue Nation**

**Chapter II: Silver Shackles**

* * *

_The Archon Council convened this morning to hear the proposal of the renowned anthropologist and synthetic entity psychologist Citizen Vasco Gamma to establish diplomatic contact with the Geth, the only other known form of synthetic life in the galaxy. "A study of the Geth could provide vital information in the fields of robotics and synthetic consciousness. Even were that not to be the case, how can I as an AI claim not to be interested in seeing how things might have turned out here?" While the Archon Council has yet to announce a decision, most expect it will be denied as the TOC has made its disapproval of Citizen Vasco Gamma's expedition well known. "It is common knowledge that the Geth are hostile to all organics, regardless of circumstance. I shudder to think what he (Citizen Vasco Gamma) hopes to learn from them." interim Chairman Scheherazade stated on the matter._

_- Voice of the Void, Arcturus: Always ready with the latest news! -_

* * *

For a long time, there was only pain.

And then Shepard realized that he couldn't possibly be asleep if he was hurting this badly, and so with a quiet groan he pulled himself upwards, one hand clutching at his aching skull as he did so.

"Ah, and our sleeping beauty awakes!" He recognized the relieved voice of Dr. Allison Chakwas, one half of the ship's medical personnel.

"So it seems." And there was Dr. Veleus Sartan, the other half.

Well, that at least solved the mystery of where he was. He had a hard time believing that the crew of the _Normandy_ would willingly mix anywhere other than on the ship itself, though maybe these two had reached some kind of professional agreement of kinds. After all, they were both docters. Surely they would-

"I wasn't talking to you."

Apparently not.

A light flashed in his still-adjusting eyes, and for a moment Shepard tensed as if to shift out of view before he reigned himself in. There was nothing more embarrassing than going invisible as the doctor was checking up on you. Sometimes reflexes could be such a pain.

"Hmm, no concussion. That's good."

With a small grunt of annoyance Shepard pushed the light away and made to stand, only to be pushed back down by strong, clawed hands.

"Don't overexert yourself, commander." The Turian advised. "We still don't know what the artefact did to you."

"Stop being such a girl." Chakwas admonished. "We build his kind to be stronger than most."

"Build? His kind?" Veleus sounded scandalized. "Madam, he is genetically and culturally the same as you! I would think that a _doctor_ of all people-"

Chakwas interrupted the tirade by jabbing a finger into Shepard's side without warning, and in his bleary startlement he tensed up and phased out of view before he could stop himself.

"Yeah, I can't do that." She said with a wry smile. "Definitely different."

The Turian snorted with derision, but turned away in silent protest. Chakwas watched him leave with a growing smile before addressing Shepard again.

"Captain wants to talk with you about what happened on the ground." She told him briefly, pushing him off the gurney lightly. "Oh, and the new girl wants to talk to you too."

"Ashley?" Shepard asked, taken aback. "She's with us?"

"She volunteered to take Jenkin's place."

"She _shot_ me!" Shepard felt this was a point that had to be made.

"Yes, and a very clean shot as well." The doctor said with some admiration. "Missed all the major arteries but still hit got you right where it would hurt. You're welcome, by the way, for taking care of that without any scarring. _Some_ people would just stitch it closed or slap some medi-gel over it."

Shepard hadn't been awake long enough to consider that possibility, but he was suddenly _very_ grateful for the woman's presence.

Shepard was not a vain man, worried that a scar would mar his appearance. No, what he was concerned about was that the scar tissue would leave a hole in his invisibility. The tissue didn't contain the material that allowed him to generate a field of light-bending qualities, and so a sufficiently large scar could be disastrous from his stealth abilities.

"Thanks doc." He said genuinely, and was glad that the woman smiled at this briefly.

"Yes yes, you're very grateful." She said quickly, and began shooing him away. "Now go talk to the captain before he glowers at me again."

"Tell us if you don't feel well, Shepard!" Her Turian co-worker called out as he left the infirmary.

Shepard mumbled his agreement as he fled the room, intensely uncomfortable with a doctor that seemed overly concerned with his well-being.

Almost immediately he was met by the one person he really didn't want to talk to.

Ashley Williams was chatting amiably with a Turian, gesticulating wildly with one hand while her audience watched with bemused fascination, no doubt only half-hearing her words as she went on about... Whatever it was backstabbing mercenaries did on their time off. Robbing banks, possibly. But then she saw him, and seemed to stumble over her words before abruptly excusing herself and advancing on him.

"Commander." She said, with all of the glib warmth of their first conversation. "I'm glad to see you're up."

Shepard simply glared at her, which she seemed to interpret as all the answer she was going to get out of him.

"Hey, it wasn't personal!" She said defensively. "Can you blame a girl for wanting to make a quick buck?"

"Of course I can!" Shepard hissed angrily. "You _shot_ me!"

"In the leg! Non-fatal, unless you bled out like a wuss!" She countered quickly, holding her hands up placatingly. "And I'm pretty sure I didn't get you anywhere important!"

"You still shot me!"

"That's in the _past_ Shepard! We're all fighting the good fight together now, hey?" Ashley said with an encouraging grin. "Shooting robots! And aliens! And people! Yeah!"

Shepard forced himself to calm down. He was too tired if he was allowing himself to react this badly. He couldn't allow his personal feelings interfere with his mission. If he had to tolerate the woman until the captain realized she was a treacherous harridan and then pushed her out the airlock, then so be it. It wasn't like he would be a member of the crew for very much longer in any case. He'd be gone long before the _Normandy_ began its trip back to the CEG.

And that line of thought almost made him want to smile. Soon he'd be on the Citadel, where he would be evaluated for the Spectres.

"Fine. Whatever." He said tersely. "Just don't do it again."

"Hey, thanks Shep!" The woman positively _bubbled_ exuberance. "You won't regret it."

"Wonderful." He looked away meaningfully. "I have to speak with the captain now."

"Of course! I'll just get back to-" She looked over her shoulder where the Turian she'd been talking to moments before had been, and noticed his absence. "Oh, he's gone. Damn, I was pretty sure he liked me, too."

Shepard decided he didn't even want to know, and took off before the woman could annoy him further. (Or shoot him. He was certain that given enough time or opportunity she'd do it again.)

He made his way through the small mess hall, glad that most of the crew were busy with the various tasks. Only Kaidan, who seemed to be on break at the moment, spared him a moment to salute as he walked by before turning back to whatever it was he was doing at the moment.

He knocked on the captain's door quietly, and waited patiently for a response of some sort.

A moment later it swept open with a small sigh of motion accompanied by a terse "Come in." From Anderson. Shepard quickly obeyed, saluting crisply as he entered.

"Sir." He said politely. "I was informed that you needed to speak to me."

"Yes." Anderson looked away from his terminal, scrutinizing him carefully. "The death of Nihlus is not being taken well by the Council, apparently."

"I was not present to stop it from happening, sir." Shepard defended, though he knew the captain would already have known this from Kaidan and Ashley's report. "He was alr-"

"Yes, I know. We've already informed the aliens of the situation. They aren't happy, but they believe us. We're to continue on our way to the Citadel and rendezvous with our emissary."

Shepard's eyes widened in surprise at this.

"We have an embassy on the Citadel?" He asked before he could stop himself.

It really _was_ quite surprising. There were always a few Fringe-World companies that flirted with the law by trading with other races, but everyone knew that they either paid a hefty 'tax' to the CEG for such transactions or they suffered for it. And of course there were a few individuals entrusted by the Archons to strike out beyond their borders. But an _embassy_? He could understand why the Archons would want to keep it secret, obviously.

"I said _emissary_." Anderson corrected. "The CEG has no embassy on the Citadel, of course."

"But don't you need an-"

"For the sake of expediency, let us pretend that we maintain a very _discreet_ embassy."

Shepard nodded, and realized just how far he'd been pushing his luck. He'd simply been too surprised at the thought to contain himself. But now was not the time for that.

"Understood, sir."

"Our contact, Donnel Udina, will relay further instructions to you and will supervise your extradition to the Council. You will obey them for the full duration of your contract."

Which would technically last until the expense of his creation, training and augmentation was met. He had over fifty years left, provided he did nothing that added on to that duration, or didn't manage to purchase the contract himself. (It was rare for an InVitro to accumulate such a large amount of money, but there were always agents who had a great deal of leeway in their work who could find ways to procure funds on the side.) He wouldn't know if the Council would calculate the same time duration, but he was willing to bet that being a Spectre had to have _some_ kind of benefits.

That is, if they still wanted him for the program. Perhaps they would regard the death of Nihlus as a failure on his part to perform up to standard. That worried him more than a little bit.

"Of course, sir."

Anderson regarded him closely for another moment, as if to divine what he was thinking, but shrugged a moment later.

"You probably don't need to be told, but we need to keep Kane's involvement in this matter quiet for the time being." He went on. "Until Udina gives you the clear, you are _not_ to reveal that he was on the ground. It is a matter for the TOC, not some alien politicians. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. You may leave now."

* * *

Shepard's first impression of the Citadel was that it was entirely too clean. It seemed impossible that a space station so large and so densely inhabited could keep itself so sparkling clean so easily. He was right, of course, but he couldn't know that. The Keepers always took people by surprise.

But then he arrived at the lower wards, and began to feel right at home.

There was a kind of desperate vibrancy there that he found familiar, reminding him of Arcturus. But where Arcturus was almost wholly a maze of various companies and mercenary outfits honeycombed with bright neon lights, threatening shadows and omnipresent advertisement the lower wards had a semblance of order to them, with courtyards devoted solely for recreation and dense marketplace populated by all manner of strange aliens he had only seen in pictures before.

It was unnerving to be in that sea of faces and voices, most of which he could not understand with his outdated translation implant. He would have to have that fixed, and soon, but at the moment he was fascinated by the exoticness of it all.

Thankfully they were mostly anonymous inside their armoured environment suits, though that strangely left him feeling more vulnerable than usual. He wouldn't be able to go invisible with the thing on, which he supposed upon reflection was a kind of irony. One form of invisibility prohibited the other.

He couldn't help but wonder if it was a _bad_ deception as well, considering the unfamiliar style of their suits. He understood that they were posing as Batarians, but that would not explain why they had not removed any of their gear in a safe environment. The hegemony may not have been an associate of the Citadel anymore, but there had to be a few of them around the place who had escaped the turmoil of their native worlds.

But even so, nobody stopped them as they made their way through the crowded market and into the darker places of the station.

_This_ section was _much_ less densely populated, its narrow corridors all but empty save for a few lone aliens either making their way to some other destination or, as they drew closer to their own objective, talking quietly and excitedly in small groups.

Distantly he could hear the quiet thrum of a rhythm through the walls along with a soft vibration. With each moment they grew stronger, until he could actually _feel_ the song as it boomed its way throughout the narrow corridors.

And then, they arrived.

Shepard and the others took in the sights with a small amount of amusement, which turned into open smiles when they were finally confronted by the gaudy neon lights of "Chora's Den", the words written in ornate Sol Basic beside the suggestive outline of what could either be a human or an Asari. It was difficult to tell with the way the head was facing, but the rest was _definitely_ female.

Subtlety, it seemed, was for _other_ establishments.

Shepard cast a questioning look over at Anderson, who simply shrugged before pressing on.

"Please tell me that is what I think it is." Shepard heard Ashley whisper excitedly to Kaidan. "I mean, I always knew the Core was rotten, but I never thought they'd really put an embassy in a _whorehouse_."

"It makes sense. Nobody would look for it. Hardly subtle, though." Kaidan muttered back in response, pointing at the sign. "Basic is hardly common around here."

"Well, they have to let people know _somehow_."

Shepard didn't bother listening in any more, as it was becoming difficult enough listening to his own thoughts as they neared the source of the thunderous music. The lights grew dimmer as they approached, easing them down into an at-once familiar and alien twilight that most human orbital stations cultivated. It wasn't the soft light of starlight through a far away window, but the gloom the welled up from Chora's Den was simply a darkness that staved off by bad lighting.

They made their way around a square walkway, noting the almost bottomless chasm that yawned downwards at the middle of it, and arrived at an inauspicious doorframe that slid open as they approached. The music spilled out of the entrance like a wave, and for a moment Shepard wondered if somehow they had made some kind of a mistake.

And then he was trying very hard to look a Jane in the eyes. Which was understandably difficult considering her noticeable lack of attire. He'd seen enough Janes in his time to recognize the subtle markers. The faintly reflective eyes that were too good at noticing things in the dark, a kind of pent up grace that promised speed and precision at the slightest threat and skin that was a strangely pale hue and shimmered slightly with every movement. They were the features he recognized in himself.

He nodded tensely at the woman, studiously keeping his eyes upwards.

"Holy shit." He heard Ashley gasp. "That's just... _Brilliant_."

And Shepard would have to agree. It would be difficult to explain the presence of a large amount of guards. But exotic dancers? Not so much. That they also happened to possess internal hardware and been trained almost from 'birth' for combat would understandably be downplayed. If there was ever any trouble, these women would be in a perfect position to retaliate, take hostages or flee. Chora's Den wasn't just a whorehouse, it seemed. It was also a death-trap waiting to be sprung on some unfortunate soul stupid enough to try and make trouble for the owners of the establishment... and its employees.

"Ah, David!" Someone cried out over the powerful din of music, and such was the happy note in it that for a moment Shepard wondered if there was someone else with the name in the room.

But then a moment later they were joined a sharply dressed man with a radiant smile and both his hands laden with cocktails.

He was middle-aged, with deep laugh-lines sprouting from the corners of his eyes and various other wrinkles that no doubt came from years of work in an unstable environment. Beyond that there really wasn't a whole lot to say about. He had the kind of ambiguous pigmentation that seemed to be the staple of anyone in any kind of official office.

"So good to see you again!" The newcomer beamed."Janelle, get this man something to drink!"

"I won't be staying long." David says with a scowl, glaring at the obsequious man without reserve.

"_Nonsense!_" The man said with a toothy grin that reminded Shepard of nothing so much as a shark. "let me introduce me you to some of my friends! It always pays to have contacts, you know, and _my_ friends can take you places!"

The caption's glare only seemed to intensify at this, and a moment later when another Jane with a tray laden down with a number of colourful drinks, Ashley somehow trailing behind her with a Cheshire grin.

"Shepard, you won't _believe _some of the things they have here!" She chirped enthusiastically, liberating a glass from the tray.

Shepard had his mouth open to ask the question that was currently tearing its way out of his mouth, namely _"how did you manage to get away that quickly?"_ but was interrupted.

"Aha!" The newcomer said, apparently thrilled at the prospect of regaling someone who actually seemed interested in their surroundings. "A fellow connoisseur! So rare in this part of the galaxy! Come away with me to my office, and we can talk of more _familiar_ topics!"

An arm encircled itself around Shepard's shoulder, and a quick glance to his side confirmed his suspicions: A Jane had slipped in close, which might otherwise have been a much-desired state of affairs were it not for the cold, unblinking stare she levelled at him as she gestured him deeper into the club. The firm grip she had on him promised that not following would be a _bad_ idea. A quick glance to the side revealed his companions were in similar positions, beautiful killers draped almost seductively around them.

With an internal shrug he put up no resistance as he was ushered into the backroom offices of Chora's Den.

* * *

Today was _not_ a good day to be Tali'Zorah Nar Raya.

First she'd been shot while in the relative safety of the Lower Wards, waylaid by a pair of Turians and a Krogan who seemed to have been waiting for her. Luckily she'd still been close to the C-Sec offices and hadn't needed to wait long before she could safely flee when her would-be ambushers were detained.

They were no doubt after the information she'd procured earlier from a salvaged Geth, that curious snippet of a conversation.

"_Eden Prime was a great victory, the beacon brought us one step closer to finding the conduit!"_ She recognized the flanging voice of a Turian, male. It had taken her almost an hour to recognize it as that of Saren Arterius, one of the most (in)famous Spectres.

"_So you say. I distrust these 'visions' of yours, though."_ A second voice that she could almost persuade herself might have been organic were it not for the slight metallic tinge in its voice.

"_Your distrust is irrelevant. The return of the Reapers draws nigh."_ A third, female voice interjected calmly.

It was meaningless message. She'd never heard of Eden Prime, and could only guess at whatever the 'Beacon', 'Conduit or even 'Reapers' were but now she was being hunted by whatever the Spectre could throw at her.

She'd sought refuge of a kind with one of the lesser known clinics, and had found herself trying desperately trying to explain her situation to what looked like a horrifically mutated Asari. There was no fringe, an alien skin hue and a worrying follicle problem that Tali had been afraid would offend her benefactor if she brought up. Instead she'd simply stared behind her faceplate as the Asari murmured unintelligibly while she worked at sealing the wound and the breach in her suit.

Somewhere along the lines her translation module picked up the language and dutifully set about doing what it was supposed to.

"-ly non-Citadel races, they tell me. Quarians and Krogan are what they mean, the bastards. Ignorant fools who think I'm an Asari half the time or neglect to tell me they don't have any money to pay me the others. Should have just stayed on the fringe, found myself a nice backwater, and-"

"I can pay!" Tali protested indignantly before she could stop herself.

The woman gave her a withering glare, and then pointedly began speaking a different language. This time her translation module only caught snippets and phrases, though not nearly enough to make any kind of sense of what she was saying.

Tali resigned herself to being talked _about_ rather than being talked to while she was being treated, though she couldn't help but wonder why this woman was so hostile.

With a quiet sigh she instead turned her attention to what she should do with the information to. As she did she tried once more to puzzle out some kind of meaning from it, though she doubted it was about to happen anytime soon.

"Eden Prime..." She muttered quietly, trying to think of what it was. She hadn't heard the phrase before, though it _did_ have a familiar ring to it.

"What did you say?" The doctor suddenly demanded in clear Khellish, her eyes narrowing intently on her.

"What?" Tali sputtered, so surprised at the woman's sudden outburst (Someone other than a Quarian who spoke Khellish? She'd yet to encounter _that_ before!) that for a moment she could only stare.

"You said 'Eden Prime'." The woman stated, pausing in her administrations. "What about it?"

"Err, what is it?" The younger woman asked, uncertain of herself all of sudden.

"It's a human colony. What have you heard about it?"

"Human?" She asked, suddenly perking up. She might be able to start making some sense of all this, after all.

The doctor smirked wryly, stepping back and pointing at herself.

"_I'm_ human." She explained patiently. "We're a non-affiliated race between Citadel space and the Terminus Systems."

Tali wracked her memory for any mention of them in her previous education, trying desperately to think of something that might make sense even as she struggled to overcome her embarrassment for having thought the woman an Asari. _Of course_ she wasn't, the only thing the two had in common were body shape. But what _else_ did she know about humans? She'd never even _seen_ one until now, after all! Desperately she tried to recall some of her recent history, and suddenly half-remembered something someone had told her about some atrocity committed something to do with AIs.

"Wasn't there a war not too long ago with the Batarians?" She asked, unsure.

"Yes, that was us." She said with a frown. "You said something about Eden Prime, though?"

"Oh!" She said, and brought her hand up to play the recording.

The doctor listened raptly as the first spoke, and then her face blanched visibly and twisted into a mask of... something, as the second spoke. It looked like fear, but it was hard to tell.

"_Kane!_" She hissed, aghast. And then she turned away, her hands working at her own omni-tool. What she said next came out in that broken language once more, wholly undecipherable to her. "_Fist! You have to get here quickly! I've got someone here that's got some info about the Eden Prime situation! Tell Udina, and then get your ass over here!_"

And with that she turned back to Tali, suddenly all smiles.

"That recording is worth quite a lot to the right people, you know." She said ingratiatingly. "I wonder if, perhaps, you would be willing to speak with a few friends of mine about it."

"What friends?" Tali asked, suddenly suspicious.

"A few, ah, _unofficial_ representatives for my kind here on the Citadel." She answered with a placating smile. "There was a recent attack on Eden Prime, and they'd be _very_ interested in knowing who was involved."

"Really?" Tali said, and now things weren't looking so bad. Once she gets rid of the data, she wouldn't be a target for Saren's goons, and there was a good chance that she'd get something out of it as well.

"Oh yes. Everyone's been on the lookout for anything. We're all _very_ worried about this."

"What do you mean by 'everyone'?"

The woman seemed to hesitate at this, but shrugged after a moment of consideration.

"Our society frowns on people who come into Citadel Space without an Archon's permission." She explained. "And one way to get that permission is to work for them, one way or another."

The doctor went back to her work, though Tali noticed that her work was mostly done at that point. There were only a few breaches left, and they would be easy fixes.

"What happens to those who don't have permission?"

"They don't come back. One way," And here she shot a quick glance to the side, towards what looked like a series of large shelves in the wall. The grim expression that flitted across her face as she did left little doubt for what they contained. "Or another."

"That's horrible." The Quarian said with a shudder, looking away.

"Not really." The doctor interjected as she went back to work, sealing the last breach in her suit. "The Archons only have a problem with Citadel Space and the Batarians. Anywhere else is pretty easy to get clearance for. And for the rest of us, well, it's not so bad."

Tali stood up, and flexed experimentally. The repair was actually well done, though the material used stood out against the dark shades of the rest of her suit.

"But isn't it-"

The door to the clinic lid open at that moment with a quiet sigh, interrupting their conversation.

"_Fist? Is that you_?" The doctor demanded suddenly, switching back into that strange language.

Tali turned to face the newcomer. One of them looked like a male specimen of the human race, and was flanked by a pair of Turians ready for war by the looks of their weaponry. She could recognize the make as that of Rosenkov Materials, one of the higher end weapon manufacturing companies.

"_Yeah, doc. It's me_."

"_Is Udina on his way_?" Mistrust was heavy in the woman's voice as she said this, which did nothing to make Tali feel any better about her situation.

"_Naw, he's busy with some Core soldiers. Talking to the Council_._ Emissary crap, you know the drill."_

"_What's with the Turians_?"

"_Well,'s a funny thing really_." Fist said conversationally. "_But you know how much information on Eden Prime is worth right now? Everyone wants to know what's happened. And I know someone who'll pay through the nose for whatever I can get my hands on_."

"_Fist, you can't be that stupid. The Shadowbroker? Even if he doesn't kill you, the Core will_!"

"_Bah, they'll hafta find me first. I got friends in low places, don't you get your panties in a twist about __that__."_And with this his hand shot up, gripping a pistol. "_Now tell the bucket-head to keep her hands where I can see them before she does something stupid."_

"Put your hands up." The doctor barked out, worry plain in her voice. But a moment later she continued on in a low voice. "Try to slow him down as much as you can, I might be able to-"

The doctor's head snapped back suddenly, accompanied by the harsh wail of gunshot. Tali watched in terrified horror as the woman fell backwards into a boneless heap, her face transfixed in an expression of surprise and fear.

"you follow me now." Fist ordered harshly in broken Turian, putting his weapon away. "Make no mistake, maybe you live."

* * *

The moment the doors slid closed behind them the thunderous blare of music was silenced, though how this was possible was a small mystery.

"Just put those down anywhere, Janelle." The man ordered casually, his flippant exterior hardening into a somewhat more business-like attitude. "Oh, and bring me something else, please. Something that'll last, these tiny glasses hardly hold _anything_."

"Of course, sir." Her exit was announced by the quick

The four of them found themselves in the office of Donnel Udina, emissary of the Archon Council.

Shepard had never had the opportunity to observe the offices of an embassy, had not spent much time in _any_ kind of office before, but what he was now standing in was _not_ what he had been expecting.

It was... Flamboyant. That was the only way to describe it. There were tiger-skins on the walls (which were a curious shade of pink) and a long aquarium filled with bright fish swimming lazily through the beautifully sculpted synthetic reefs. In one corner of the room there was a model of the Core and Fringe worlds, small lights circling around as if the viewer were slowly panning around it on a steady course. In another there was a holographic VI dancer made of neon light and synthetic delight And then, of course, there was The Picture. The capital letters were necessary. It ceased to be a mundane object and took on a personality of its own, the kind that gets people thrown out of clubs.

It was a holo of what, if Shepard had been familiar with the current members of the Citadel Council, was a hugely grinning Donnel Udina flanked by the Asari and Salarian representative trying desperately not to look embarrassed at being surrounded by a mass of women in varying degrees of undress with Chora's Den in the background. Shepard could only imagine why the Councillors had tolerated such blatant disrespect. They _had_ to recognize it for what it was.

This picture was displayed prominently at the back of the room, where everyone could a good look at it, flanked on either side by what looked like tiki torches spouting up holographic fire.

"Make yourselves comfortable." The emissary said loudly, making his way towards his desk. "My name us Donnel Udina, and we'll be talking to the Council shortly so be sure to get a drink or two in you. It makes things easier, on the whole."

Ashley, it seemed, did not need to be told twice and was already double-fisting a pair of cocktails. Shepard and Kaidan reluctantly followed her example, picking up something that looked the most unassuming and had the least amount of tiny umbrellas. He sipped at it absent-mindedly as he watched the emissary at work with his work terminal, the sight of someone working seeming wrong somehow in the surroundings.

Shepard found a large armchair in a relatively secluded corner of the office and set himself down heavily into it with a sigh.

It didn't take long for Udina to set in motion whatever it was had need to, as a moment later the light in the room dimmed somewhat as something lowered itself down from the roof slowly with a quiet hum of hydraulics. And then, there they were.

A trio of holograms appeared midair at the centre of the room, each one arrayed in a different direction. Shepard found himself being stared at sightlessly by a hooded Salarian in stately robes, the large, shadowed amphibian eyes slightly worrying in the already darkened atmosphere.

"Udina." The Asari greeted with stiff cordiality. "We've been expecting a call from you."

"Well, you know how it is, Trelani." The man answered with a voice like bubbly snake-oil. "One thing gets in the way of the other, and somehow I never found quite enough time to-"

"Don't try to play games with us, Udina!" The Turian councillor growled. "What do you have to say about the Eden Prime disaster?"

"That it is a _human_ concern, and I will expect something in the way of a bribe if you want an answer." Udina answered crisply. "The crew of the _Normandy_ has submitted their reports of what transpired, I'll have to contact Earth if I want to disclose anything else. And I don't."

"There is no need to be difficult, emissary Udina." The Salarian said with a placating note. "We simply want to know what happened to Spectre Nihlus."

"Shepard?" Udina said, shooting the man in question a querying glance. "Enlighten us."

The InVitro came to his feet quickly, and suddenly felt very silly for still holding on to his drink.

"From what we gathered from witnesses on the ground, we believe that an acquaintance of Nihus's was involved in the attack. Someone called Saren. He tricked Nihlus with a lie and shot him when his back was turned."

"This is preposterous!" The Turian councillor roared. "I will not stand here and let you slander the reputation of one of our most trusted agents!"

"Indeed." The Salarian councillor agreed, nodding. "This is a serious allegation, Shepard. Do you have any other proof to go with your claim?"

Shepard felt his skin grow hot, angry at being doubted. They owned his contract, didn't they? There was no _point_ in lying to them. It'd only make things worse if it was found out, and it did nothing to improve matters.

"Nothing else, no." He admitted tersely, and sat himself down.

"Do you suspect anyone else to be involved?" The Asari councillor asked, and Shepard was certain she was fishing for an answer.

Shepard looked over at Udina, who shook his head.

"There is not enough evidence to point to anyone else, Councillor."

The three were silent for a few moments, each one processing what his statement could mean.

"I see." The Asari said slowly.

"Were you able to recover the cache of artefacts, at least?" The Salarian asked swiftly, shifting topics quickly.

"Most of the cache was intact." Udina answered, saving Shepard from saying anything else. "I've been informed that it has being delivered to C-sec right now, and I took the liberty of filing them as erotic accessories. That should keep prying eyes away. Or at least attract an entirely different sort."

Silence greeted the man's statement in which Shepard could clearly see each hologram blink as one before turning to what could only be intense distaste. The only sound to be heard was Ashley trying to disguise a fit of laughter with coughing.

"Was that really necessary?" The Salarian said with audible disgust.

"Yes." Udina said with a grin. "You never know who might be waiting to swoop in and steal something priceless. And it also made me laugh, so everybody wins!"

At this point the Councillors decided they wanted as little to do with the man as possible.

"Shepard, we will review your report and your application for Spectre status. We will be in touch."

And with that the three of them winked out of existence, leaving the humans to their devices.

"Shepard!" Udina immediately snapped up to his feet, his earlier mirth forgotten. "I don't need to tell you how important it is that you get this job. Earth _really_ wants someone on the inside of this place, and _I_ want to piss off that damned lizard. So! I'm going to give you the names of some of my contacts, and _you_ are going to get to the bottom of this before C-sec or whoever else they're going to send to investigate."

* * *

Shepard had met people like Harkin before, and knew from experience that there was only one person they could reliably be said to be loyal to: themselves. But Udina had assured him that Harkin had ample reason to want to help Shepard.

So it was to the spy codenamed "Fade" that Shepard found himself going to first on the small list of names Udina had supplied, if only because he was the closest.

"Would you _believe_ the crap they expect me to believe?" The man ranted, though it was hard to tell if he was talking to himself or to Shepard. "They _know_ I'm working for two other outfits, and they don't think I'll check with my other sources? Honestly! Citizens on the Citadel, it's _ridiculous_!"

"Actually, there is one at the moment." Ashley interrupted, much to Shepard's annoyance. "We just arrived on a Core ship."

"Ya don't say?" Harkin said, pausing in his work to consider this new information. "Valuable info to the right people, even if they have a snowballs chance in hell of getting their hands on it."

"I'm sure you can think of some way to reward me." Ashely said with a grin.

"Cash or credit?" The man turned and got a good look at Ashley, and then grinned lecherously. "Or maybe you'd like some othe-"

"Cash." The mercenary cut in, her voice much icier.

The spy shrugged and reached his pocket, pulling out a thick roll of money. He tossed it errantly in her direction as he turned to face Shepard fully.

"Can't blame a man for trying. Now, what was it you wanted, test-tube?"

"We're looking for any information on the recent activities of the Spectre Saren and Citizen Kane, as well was whatever you can find out about the attack on Eden Prime."

Harkin whistled lowly at this, his eyes wide.

"That's a tall order, friend." He said. "Asking about Saren will bring a whole lot of attention down on me, and the chances of finding anything about Kane way out here are slim at best."

"Why would asking about Saren get you into trouble?" Kaidan asked, his dour expression changing slightly to sullen inquisitiveness.

"Are you kidding?" Harkin asked, grinning. "I hear you guys are travelling with Anderson, and you_ don't know_? Hah! That's great!"

"Just tell us." Shepard said with a slight growl, quickly losing patience.

"Hey, don't get pissy with me because _you_ don't know your history, NV!" Harkin retorted. "Anyways, you know how friendly we are to aliens back home, yeah? Well, once upon a time things were _worse_. The Archons had their own pet dog to make sure that _nobody_ got into human space, whether they merchants, diplomats or Spectres: Sean Malice. Head of security on the Arcturus Station at the time, and he was _good_ at his job. Took out black ops like I take out the trash, though with much more regularity."

"It shows." Kaidan remarked, looking around the cluttered office to demonstrate his point. "What's this got to do with anything, Harkin?"

"I'm gettin' there, keep your pants on!" The spy grumbled, annoyed at being interrupted. "Well, one day our boy Saren decides he doesn't like there being a no-fly zone for Spectres. He takes it into his head to change that. So he sneaks onto a ship and waltzes right onto the Arcturus Station without anyone knowing he was there and _blows up_ the Arcturus Intelligence Agency, with Sean inside it. It was _epic_. And you know what the _great_ part is?"

"I get the feeling you're going to tell us."

"The ship that he stowed away on to get to Arcturus, guess who was in charge?" Harkin was grinning wildly, barely containing the laughter that fought to escape his mouth. "Captain David Anderson, that's who! The bastard's been on every Archons' shit list ever since."

"So how does that make him difficult to get info on?"

"How much do you think the Archon's would pay to get their hands on Saren?" Harkin asked rhetorically, not waiting for an answer before he went on. "How many NVs do you think they set on him? Too much and too many to count. The other Spectres know this, and they're a pretty loyal bunch. They don't even like it when people look too closely at their actions. What do you think they do to people who might be looking to kill one of them?"

"Ah." Shepard said, nodding. "I see."

"But you're in luck." Harkin said, turning back to his terminal for a moment. "I've been looking at a security feed from one of Udina's other contacts."

"Why were you looking at security feeds?" Ashley asked, suddenly curious.

"That's none of your god-damned business." Harkin said quickly, and with a note of embarrassment. "_Anyways,_ I saw one of our agents go rogue. Bastard named Fist. C-Sec is investigating right now, someone named Garrus Vakarian in charge. Don't tell him I sent you, yeah? He sends me info every now and again."

"Why didn't you report this to Udina earlier?" Kaidan demanded.

"What, you think I watch the things all day? I _do_ have work to do, y'know. Truth is I only started watching just before you guys arrived, and by then..." Harkin shrugged. "Well, I could only send a report. I can't _make_ anybody read them."

"So, where is this investigation?"

"Not far. Oh, And when you find Fist, do me a favour and shoot out his knees, yeah? Bastard deserves it."

* * *

Garrus Vakarian, the resident rising star of C-sec, was not having a good day.

His day had started off badly, Executor Palin asking him to begin an investigation of some attack on a colony that he'd never even heard of and, once he'd looked into the matter, realized he would never be able to get more than superficial information on. He knew from this from experience: Humans were notoriously tight-lipped about what went on in their homes.. But he knew a few people who owed him favours, and would have called a few in had the first amongst his available choices not answered his call.

Dr. Chloe Michel was one of the few humans he knew that seemed to actually like him. He knew of the less than savoury aspect of her job, and had chosen not to interfere. She was discreet, and from whats he told him they were all convicted of some crime in their home worlds. He could never get her to go into details about it, but she was adamant about that. They'd done something that merited death.

A quick trup to her clinic revealed why she'd been unable to answer her phone, and half an hour later things had just gotten worse.

It turned out the good doctor didn't just kill people, she also destroyed their remains. What had been assumed to be a cool-closet for corpses turned out to also be an incinerator capable of generating enough heat to reduce just about anything to ash and slag. They'd only discovered _that_ particular detail one when particularly clumsy officer had pushed a button he shouldn't have and inadvertently destroyed the last remains of some unfortunate soul.

That had been another sharp turn in the downwards spiral that was his day, as he was not uncomfortably aware of just what he had been complicit with.

And now, as if things weren't bad enough, there was even _more_ humans arriving. Worse still, they said they were there on the orders of Udina.

Garrus, like most of C-sec, knew of the man. He was the person the Council talked to when they wanted to get in touch with humanity, as well as the undisputed leader for what seemed to be every 'legitimate' human endeavour on the Citadel. That former afforded the man a small amount of diplomatic immunity, while the latter ensured that he knew a _lot_ about what happened on a day-to-day workings of the Citadel.

But he didn't know these three, and by the way they carried themselves he knew they were at least somewhat trained for combat. One of the males in particular seemed to be glaring openly at him, which was certainly a change from what he'd thought of as a relatively quiet and law-abiding people.

He waved away a nearby officer, hoping to be able to speak privately with the newcomers. Hopefully they'd be able to shed some light on what had happened here.

"So, Udina sent you, did he? And what does he expect you to do?" He asked cautiously, carefully watching them for signs of duplicity.

"We're investigating the attack on Eden Prime." Their leader, who'd identified himself as John Shepard, explained. "We have reason to believe that the doctor here might in some way be involved."

And then things were looking up again, however slightly.

"How?" Garrus demanded, a note of eagerness in his voice.

"We have reason to believe she made contact with someone who had information about the attack. A rogue agent killed her and kidnapped this second person. He was someone named Fist."

"Fist?" The name came out slowly from his mouth, his mind trying to conjure up a face to go with it. Eventually he gave up

"I didn't think you would." Shepard said nonchalantly. "But we might be able to help eachother."

"How?"

"We _know_ what happened on Eden Prime." Shepard explained. "We were there. What we need is _proof_. If you help us, I'll tell you what you want to know."

"Shepard, I don't think Udina would-"

"Udina didn't specify what _I_ couldn't disclose about the attack." Shepard declared sharply. "If it bothers you that much, you can tell everyone what a horrible person I am later. We need proof _now_, though." The human looked meaningfully at Garrus. "Do you agree to our terms?"

Garrus thought it over, before realizing that saying no would be stupid. In all his time with C-sec he'd _never_ met a human willing to be forthcoming about anything to do with human worlds or politics. Getting them to talk about their homes or local gossip was an exercise in futility.

"Alright." He agreed with a nod, his mouth moving into a Turian grin. "I'll agree."

"Good." Shepard said, seeming to mirror his grin with one of his own. "Then the first thing we need to figure out is where Fist would take this person. Who would be interested in knowing what happened on Eden Prime, and who would be able to know just as quickly as the Council?"

"Someone with contacts in diplomatic channels." Garrus suggested, though he didn't really believe it himself. Even C-sec hadn't known about the _Normandy_ and its cargo until both had arrived at the Citadel, let alone about the situation.

"Possible. "Shepard agreed, though he seemed to echo Garrus's doubt.

"Hmmph, as if politicians would be able to wheedle a secret out of anyone." The female, Ashley, said with a snort. "Information trafficking is _way_ too tricky for most of 'em. Anyone less than savoury around here?"

The Turian shot her an incredulous look before guffawing loudly.

"In the lower wards? Of course! It's just a matter of looking." He answered.

"Any of 'em specialize in secrets?"

"Of cour-" Garrus began, and paused. Yes, that _did_ make sense. And even if the Shadowbroker _weren't_ involved, there was a good chance he'd know where this Fist person was. Garrus didn't have many favours worked up with the local Shadowbroker agent, Barla Von, but a little intimidation would have to do the rest.

"I think I know where we should go next." He told his new partners in crime. Or law-enforcement, as the case would be.

* * *

**AN:** You've all waited patiently, so here it is! The new chapter!

Much short than I'd originally planned but y'know what? Somewhere around 7k I realized that I wasn't nearly done, and I was jumping over a whole lot of exposition as it was. So I decided that from this point on I'd split my original chapter plans in half, which should bring the chapter count to around 20+. (Joy.) Which means you won't be getting whole, single plot arcs as I'd hoped and will instead be quite often dropped into cliffhangers followed by resolutions, followed by character interactions. So, once we start the trip (which should start next chap) the pattern will be this: 1 arrive on planet, investigate, wonder wtf is going on. 2 Find problem, fight-o!, Resolution. 3 en route to next planet, Tali makes out with Shep (except not really), shenanigans. Mostly shenanigans, really.

Decided to break up the Kane quotes with random news reports. I was really disappointed that the Cerberus News Network was shut down, so consider this a sort of homage to it. Quotes and News will be every other chapter, so yeah. Unless everyone hates the notion, in which case I will cry in a corner before doing away with whichever offends the most.

I like Udina. Well, not so much canon Udina. But the strip club owner and retired spy Udina? Yes. A thousand times _yes_. Perhaps my standard of awesome is low, but _anyone_ who can run a diplomatic function out of a whorehouse instantly gets the Syroc Seal of Sanction, no matter the setting. I am weird like that.

Lastly, if anybody would like to beta the story then do give a shout. I like to think I catch most of the mistakes, but I am my own worst enemy. I'm pretty sure that some corner of my mind is in secret rebellion against the rest, and tries to thwart me. Us. Myse- y'know what? I think it just did it again.

That is all, ladies and other vertebrates.


	5. Chapter 3: Ethnic Slurs IN SPACE!

**Rogue Nation**

**Chapter III: Dinosaurs, Buckets and Space-Monkeys**

* * *

_Acclaimed Asari anthropologist Yelani Velar published her latest book amidst an air of great anticipation. __**The Ethics of Greed: Humanity and the CEG**__ is already being hailed as the go-to source for modern human society and politics. Yelani claims that she has put years of effort into the book, gathering material from a wide selection of sources and contacts. The book is also one of the few works from the Citadel that has been approved for distribution in the heavily isolated Core Worlds of human expansion. "I was honestly quite surprised when I heard about it. There only a few hundred books published by non-humans that the CEG allows to be imported. This may be the first sign of real progress in regards to CEG-Citadel diplomatic relations."_

_- Citadel News -_

There hadn't been enough time.

Not for Shepard to get a handle on where they were headed, not for any of them to bring any weapons other than what they already had on them and, thankfully, not nearly enough time for Kaidan to let them know what he thought about teaming up with a Turian. As it was, the man was a storm-cloud of muttered curses on the horizon that promised to get worse, but for now he was thankfully keeping his peace for the most part.

They simply ran through the Lower Wards like the galaxy's strangest colony of bats out of hell, hastily making their way to the Upper Wards, and from there to the Presidium. Civilians scurried out of their way as they burst through, staring at the curious procession or calling out curses at them.

And then they waited for the elevator to bring them up to their floor. With adrenaline still pumping in his veins and his breath heavy from the exertion of running in full armour, the slow rise of the elevator as it brought them to their destination became unbearable.

Apparently he wasn't the only person who thought so.

"So, how are you enjoying the Citadel so far?" Garrus asked, almost pleasantly.

"Nobody was talking to you," Kaidan growled.

"Aww, no need to be like _that_ Alenko!" Ashley admonished with a grin before looking over at Garrus. "It's boring for the most part. Too many scenic venues."

"Boring?" The Turian said in surprise, his mandibles twitching.

"Yeah! I mean, we haven't been harassed at _all_ since we got here! 'Cept by the security, anyways, and they don't count."

"That's a _good_ thing, Ashley," Shepard said wearily. "We don't want people asking too many questions about us."

"You're no fun, Shep."

And that seemed to put a stop to the conversation, allowing the awkward silence to return with renewed potency. After what seemed like an eternity there was a soft chime, and the doors of the elevator slid open.

Again, Shepard felt the discomfort that had set in earlier, though now there was the added worry that there would be guards waiting in ambush. He knew it was an irrational fear, but he couldn't help but be very aware of the heavy armour he was wearing to blend in. While it was all well and good to have an inch or so of metal to stop bullets from riddling him with holes, he'd much rather be invisible. He wondered if it said something about him that he didn't feel safe while covered in an armoured environment suit.

It certainly didn't help that the terraced architecture of the presidium kept reminding him that the walkways were a killing field for snipers. He kept reminding himself that the chances of that sort of thing happening were miniscule at best, but there was still that nagging doubt.

Which just goes to show that fate, life and the galaxy each had a curious sense of humour.

The four of them thundered into the presidium proper, a wide open courtyard with alien greenery and the massive reservoir that looked for all the world like a perfectly calm river passing one end of the Citadel to the other. Passing over it was a narrow walkway that, handily, was just at the opposite end of the courtyard from them.

So taken in by the scene was Shepard that it took him a moment to identify the distant stuttering sound as that of gunfire. But then the air was filled with the familiar hissof bullets as they slammed into their shields.

Shepard, already tense, quickly reacted to this new development.

"Contact!" he shouted, and threw himself forward to take cover behind the smooth white contours of one of the many planters, and wished yet again that he wasn't wearing armour.

Kaidan and the Turian took cover next to him, both of them scowling. (Well, Shepard _assumed_ that Vakarian was scowling. Even after a few weeks of serving with them, he still wasn't that confident in his ability to interpret their body-language.)

"What the hell is this?!" Kaidan cursed. "How did they know we were coming?!"

"Someone must have told them," Garrus said, and flinched slightly as gunshot ricocheted off their cover. "I'll look into it later."

Shepard was only half-listening to all this, as he was more concerned with taking stock of just what was going on. As he did, however, he noticed just who wasn't there.

"Where's Ashley?" Shepard asked.

And as if waiting for that exact moment, the universe answered.

"You alien bastards can't shoot for shit!" Ashely Williams, corporate samurai and traitorous mercenary bastard, screamed at the assailants. "Yeah, you heard me you scaly sons of whore_- _Oh shit, they have sniper-rifles!"

"Still wondering, Shepard?" Kaidan asked, a small grin on his lips.

"Shepard!" the mercenary called out from ahead of them. "Get your ass in gear and _shoot_ them!"

"Thank you, Kaidan," Shepard answered calmly, and looked over towards the Turian. He was holding a sniper rifle. Shepard did not believe in coincidences, but as Ashley had just proven it never paid to underestimate the stupidity of others. "You any good with that, Vakarian?"

"I'm a fair shot," the alien stated, Shepard catching a note of smugness in the Turian's voice. "Think you can buy me a few seconds to get some shots out?"

It should be noted at this point that Shepard, despite being a bag of nerves due to his confinement in environment-suit, had slipped into the familiar rhythms of battle. With the adrenaline pumping and wail of gunshot ringing in his ears, all thoughts of discomfort and awkwardness vanished.

"I can do that," Shepard said, and calmly stood up, bounding over the planter.

It was a curious experience, wearing the heavily armoured environment-suit in combat. For one glorious moment, he felt like an unstoppable juggernaut as he clobbered forward, as a hail of pellets were deflected by his shields. It felt like he was invulnerable.

But it was sadly short-lived.

The shields had never been meant to withstand concentrated fire, especially not from multiple snipers, and so Shepard watched with sinking horror as they briefly flared with a final effort to protect him before shutting down under the onslaught.

He shoulder jerked backward as a round hit it, but happily the suit had been built to take at least a few rounds, and so without delay he aimed along he sights on his pistol and proceeded to unload into the enemies on the opposite end of the presidium. He knew it was ridiculous to think that he would be able to hit anything at that range, but all he wanted was their attention.

Seeing as his main protection was down, he saw little point in trying to hold out much longer and promptly searched for some new safe nook he could hide behind while his shields powered back up.

There was a loud _'crack'_ that Shepard recognized as a sniper's shot, and was extremely gratified to see one of the snipers stagger back and then collapse.

"Shepard!" Ashley hissed from his left. "Get over here!"

Shepard took only a moment to see just where the woman was before he hastily joined her in cowering for safety.

He leaned back heavily, breathing laboriously as he tried not to think about just how ass-backwards stupid he had been. He wondered why anyone ever bothered with armour if its protection seemed so wholly dependent on their shields. It seemed such a waste to make someone run around a battlefield with so much bulky metal strapped onto their body. There probably _was_ a reason, he realized, but he was far too distracted by the fact that he was being shot at to think of it.

"Shit, Shep, what the hell were you thinking?" Ashley admonished him harshly. "You can't just pop off shots like that without a care in the world, you know! They've got the Quarian over there!"

It took Shepard a moment to realize that she was talking to him, and when he did he stopped panting in order to glower at her.

"What?" he said, and ran the last few seconds through his head once again. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Ashely shook her head with exasperation at his reply.

"Don't you know _anything?"_ she hissed, looking at him with disbelief. "I thought you core-bastards were supposed to be smart!"

Shepard bristled at this, but decided not to bother contesting the statement in the middle of a fire fight. Instead, he focused on the present situation and what he could do about it.

So, he couldn't fire with his pistol at this range because that would endanger the mission. And he didn't have anything else, because it had been difficult enough to get even that much through c-sec.

He was suddenly very uncomfortable with his situation: no invisibility, no gun, and no immediate way to remedy either of these problems.

"There isn't enough time for this," he said and, because there was a dull ache in his leg where he had been shot and Shepard liked to believe in karmic retribution, he roughly pushed the young merc out of cover. "Get out there and buy us some."

"What the- _shit!_" Ashley cursed even as she was shunted out in the open with no warning. "_Oh, screw you Shepard! You son of a- oh shit!_"

She desperately rolled away as a bullet barely missed her head, instead bouncing off the floor and flying harmlessly away.

It would be wrong to draw amusement from having pushed someone out into the open in a fire fight like that, but sometimes there just weren't any other options. Sometimes someone had to take one for the team.

It certainly didn't hurt that the 'someone' in question had already proven themselves to be as a trustworthy as... well, someone who had already backstabbed him once before. Speaking of which...

"I'm alright with you shooting me now, by the way," Shepard called out to her. "Just so you know!"

"You _suck,_ Shepard!" Ashley shouted at him even as she made a mad dash for a new shelter. "You hear me?! You fucking _suck!"_

The man couldn't have stopped the small grin of satisfaction at his revenge even if he'd wanted to. It wasn't often that he got to feel it, but sometimes he really enjoyed his work.

_'Right_,' he thought to himself, and pushed a button that would undo the seals of his environment suit. It was time he started making himself useful.

* * *

Tali'Zorah heard the sound of gunfire behind her, and wondered for a moment if Saren's men catching up to her was a good or a bad thing. On the one hand, she had been captured by the Shadowbroker. On the other hand there was the prospect of being killed by a Spectre's goons.

She cursed quietly, wishing not for the first time that she had just left that stupid Geth corpse alone. If she had, then all this would never have happened, and she would probably still be safe. But the temptation of finding something about the Geth, and the implications that might have been revealed had been too sweet to resist.

They'd been forcing her along for some time, stopping only when the massive Krogan with an abundance of scars had informed them that they had been followed, after which things had gotten strange.

She and the human had been pushed into the relative safety of a nearby alcove and told not to come out until the fighting was done. Things seemed to be going in the favour of her captors, though again she wasn't entirely certain whether this was a good or a bad thing.

And then something strange happened. It started out as a distant, angry shouting. But now it was getting closer and louder with every moment. And... well, there was just something about those strange, unintelligible words that made her want to blush in embarrassment.

"_I swear to every god in the Core, I am going to shoot you again you tube-spawn bastard!"_ one of the attackers shouted, and while she couldn't understand the actual words, there was no mistaking the intent: someone was going to get hurt. One of her escorts snickered, sighted down the barrel of his sniper-rifle, and fired. A moment later, there was a loud ringing sound followed by another angry bellow. _"What the- oh, you did not just try that!"_

"_Shit," _Fist grumbled next to her, just as incomprehensible as the other person but just as easily understood. "_How could they have found out so quickly?!_"

Tali blinked in surprise, as she thought she recognized the language as the one that the doctor had been speaking before she had broken into Khellish.

"_That's it! I don't even care any_more! All Quarians in the area, get on the ground!" came an enraged shout from across the walkway. Halfway through it her translator kicked in, supplying her with some much-needed elucidation on what was being said.

And just in time, too.

Without waiting for her captor's permission she dropped to the ground, wincing slightly with pain as she did because of her earlier wound. She wasn't exactly sure why her pursuers were telling her to do this, but she had a sneaking suspicion that not everything was as it seemed.

A moment later there were a few 'tinks' as three small globes bounced across the ground and exploded, sending shrapnel screaming out in all directions. She felt the force of them through the ground, and noted with some satisfaction that two guards had been felled by the blasts.

"Yeah, not so funny _now_, is it?!" the voice taunted. "Who else wants to take few pot-shots at the stupid monkeygirl? C'mon! I got a bag full of _shut-the-hell-up_ that I'm just itching to share!"

"What the hell is _wrong_ with them?!" Fist quailed in fear. "They'll ruin _everything!_"

"No takers, huh?" the woman across the way asked. "Fine! Be that way! I'll just come over there!"

Which seemed to be the breaking point for Fist.

"Shit shit _shit!_" Fist cursed with terror. "This isn't worth it! I'm getting out of here!"

He made as if to bolt, but the Krogan spotted the movement and, with a cruel grin, turned and clotheslined him. There was a loud snapping sound as the combined force of the movements, along with the Krogan's unyielding armour, proved too much the human's ribs. Something that was only made a great deal worse as Fist dropped like a rock onto his back, exhaling sharply as the air was forced out of his lungs.

Tali could only watch with horror as the man proceeded to cough and gasp desperately for breath, each frantic rise and fall of his chest causing him to make things even worse. It wasn't long before his coughs brought blood with them. Even as he thrashed about in pain and terror he kept trying to suck in air.

"Stay here. You don't want to end up like him," The Krogan warned her, and turned back to the fight.

The Quarian took one look at the still-writhing human, who was now taking quick, shallow breaths, and decided that it was in her best interests to do as he asked. She wasn't exactly eager to put herself on the bad side of an angry Krogan.

* * *

Elsewhere, back with Garrus Vakarian and Kaidan Alenko, the two were hard at work making sure that Ashley didn't get shot to pieces. The former with his sniper rifle, the latter with a liberal application of biotics.

"Spirits," he muttered in quiet amazement as the enraged woman cursed and threw grenades. "I thought that _she_ was the friendly one,"

"Just shut up and shoot," Kaidan hissed, but quickly amended this demand. "And keep an eye out for Shepard, too. I haven't seen him in a while."

"Really?" Garrus said, and swept his sniper rifle around where he had last seen Shepard. "Well, I can see him- no, that's just his- hold on, why would he take _off_ his armour?!"

"Oh," Kaidan said, nodding in understanding at this new detail. "That's why."

* * *

Urdnot Wrex was having an interesting day.

He hadn't been expecting much from his assignment: protect a human until they made contact with Barla Von, then kill it. It was the kind of simple and _boring_ task that he'd become inured to lately by dint of having done it so many times before. His boredom became mild annoyance when he realized he had to protect _another_ target as well: a Quarian. He didn't care one way or another about her kind, but what got to him was the simple fact he would be babysitting someone else on top of the human.

And then _more_ humans had arrived, and suddenly things had stopped being boring.

He hadn't fought many of their kind before, as they had an almost invisible presence on the Citadel and other Citadel worlds. They didn't get into trouble, and when they did they simply disappeared. The few he _had_ fought hadn't been trained for it, their deaths prolonged by their numerous attempts to trick or outwit him. They seemed to think that his size somehow had something to do with his intelligence, which was a tragic mistake to make. Krogan Battlemasters were gruff and blunt, but there was a keen, predatory intellect staring out at the world from the safety of its well-muscled body.

But _these_ humans were different.

_These_ humans came with fury and swiftness and, most importantly, a great deal of explosions. He felt that that part needed to be focused on, if only because he wasn't going to get paid if the Quarian got killed before she coughed up her information. He was already likely to take a pay hit for possibly killing the human before getting to Barla Von, and he wasn't about to take another just because some backwater monkey-people thought that they could meddle in the affairs of their 'betters'.

One of them came tearing across the walkway, pistol in one hand and what looked like a sword, if only because there wasn't much else it could be called. What it most of all looked like was a biotic singularity that had been stretched wide and thin.

When he saw it cut effortlessly into one of the Salarian guards that hadn't been ripped apart by grenade shrapnel, he began to suspect that that might actually be the case.

"Huh," he grunted with a small amount of interest. A black-hole sword. Why had nobody ever thought of _that_ before?

Of course, that presented him with the age-old Krogan dilemma: how to deal with someone who brought a sword to a gun-fight. Now, it was important to note that it wasn't old because nobody could solve it. No, it was because it was just so much fun to solve.

He raised his assault rifle and fired, expecting to make short work of the reckless thing.

What he _hadn't_ expected was for the human to grab the Salarian it had just killed and use it as a shield as it bulled towards him.

He hadn't seen _that_ maneuver in a _long_ time. It was always fun to see it in action.

Mostly because Salarians made terrible shields, even with their armour on. They were just too skinny for it. For real protection you had to go with Turians: the too-big armour they seemed to favour was a real boon in a protracted fight.

He adjusted his aim, and was hugely gratified when he heard the human yelp with pain and stagger, noticeably favouring one side.

Again, however, this was short-lived. Instead of doing what just about everyone did when shot, which was to stop and try to find safety, what _this_ person did was discard its protection and flat out _charge_, leaping at him in a superhuman effort to close the distance between them. The world seemed to move in slow-motion as it- no, _she_ – soared through the air like an angry goddess of war, shooting at him all the way.

His shields took the bullets, but they were worthless against her sword as it passed through them without any effort. Reflexes kicked in, and without thinking about it he brought his rifle up to block a sword that, had he thought about it for a moment, would either pass through it or cut through it.

It was the latter that happened, and he was left holding two halves of a now-worthless weapon. He leaned backwards to avoid a second slash at his head, and then pushed her away while she was off-balance from her missed strike.

"Dammit!" The human cursed loudly as she staggered away. "You're _not_ supposed to dodge!"

"Heh," Wrex chuckled, and flexed his digits. It had been a long time since he had had to fight hand-to-hand. "Better people than you have tried, human."

"You should visit the Fringe Worlds!_" _it was impossible to see through the helmet, but he was certain that she was grinning. "We'd take you apart and sell the pieces!"

"Not likel-," he was abruptly cut off as the woman leapt at him again, the strange sword held high and ready to bisect him.

He almost felt sorry for what he was about to do. Really, he did. Ignorance like hers was a rare thing. He had no doubt that wherever she was from jumping around like a pyjak hopped up on red sand with a gun and one hand and a sword of the future in the other was an effective stratagem. They all forgot that once they were in the air, all it took was a little push to send them flying.

And so he responded to her attack in the traditional Krogan manner: with excessive force.

He felt the charge race through his body as the eezo was agitated, and then he made the familiar movements that sent the crazy human rocketing backwards into the wards reservoir, cursing the whole way. She crashed into it with a loud _splash_ and even more cursing, though they were of course abruptly cut off as the water enveloped her.

"God damn it Ashley," something said from not far away. Wrex turned towards the source, only to be faced with... nothing.

And then that nothing melted into yet another human, this one holding a pistol with the muzzle just in front of the Krogan's face.

"Don't move, or you'll be catching bullets with your eyes," the male warned calmly.

Wrex had fought a great many battles in his long life. And in those many struggles, he'd seen many things. Impossible things that defied logic, incredible feats of skill and strength.

But what he had never been confronted with until that moment was someone threatening him with a _pistol_ wearing nothing but the skin of their hide. He was conflicted on what he felt about that, as until then he'd been certain that some forms of stupidity simply could not exist without the person who exhibited the traits removing themselves from the gene pool to the benefit of everyone. On the one hand, the human had a quad made of steel. (Or a pair, rather.) On the other, he was _insane_.

This was _not_ how he'd imagined his day progressing.

"You have got to be kidding me," Wrex rumbled out, staring incredulously down the barrel of the gun.

"Where is the Quarian?"

"You think I'm afraid of-"

It happened without the slightest warning. The human made only a tiny movement, and in the next moment Wrex knew he would have a new scar to decorate his face, because the human had just shot him. Right along his jawline, where the damage was mostly superficial but it still hurt. He hissed in pain as the surprise wore off.

There was no change in the human's expression as he pointed the gun back at his eye.

"No," he said calmly. "But maybe you are now. Where is the Quarian?"

A deep growl rumbled up from Wrex's chest as his patience with all of this began to wear even thinner than it already was.

"You're really starting to piss-"

The human shot him again, not far from where he had just a moment ago.

"Where is the Quarian?" he asked again.

Wrex had had enough. He wasn't about to be intimidated by a naked human with a pea-shooter, even if he _could_ come out of nowhere. This little, squishy nuisance was going to _die_ with his hands around his neck!

"Do that again, human, and I'll-"

The human shot him again.

Wrex saw red, and lunged after the human.

* * *

Things had gotten quiet after the Krogan had left. But only for a little while, because then whoever had been shouting at them had apparently come face to face with the wayward Krogan.

Tali had watched the whole fight unfold with keen interest, silently hoping that whatever these humans wanted it _wasn't_ to return her to Saren. It was a distinct possibility, after all: the doctor had _said_ that her superiors would be interested in the information she had, and she _had_ contacted someone about it. It was possible that someone else working with Fist had sent someone to save her.

Although she had to admit that she found the idea of someone _wanting_ to help her a little far-fetched, even if she had something they wanted. The galaxy just wasn't that kind to Quarians.

Or humans, it seemed, as the human was brutally outclassed by her Krogan captor to be sent flying in such a way that would have been comical were it not so horrible.

And then things had got _weird_.

Tali had a brief moment of terror when she saw the shimmer and something seemed to just appear out of thin air. She'd only seen something like that before on Geth. The thought that they might have somehow made it onto the Citadel in search of her filled her with dread. She was already being chased by a Spectre and the Shadowbroker: how much worse would things be if the _Geth_ got in on the string of horrible events that her life was turning into?

She almost wished that it _had_ been a Geth; because that was something she could wrap her head around. She could deal with _that._

But no, what instead appeared out of nowhere was a naked human with a gun.

She would never feel safe again: there was always going to be the danger of invisible, naked humans lurking around, watching her. _Geth _would only want to kill her, whereas there was no telling what a human might want. She supposed that her only saving grace was that they weren't affiliated with the Citadel, and made a note to _never_ visit wherever it was they came from.

The human male (it was difficult to not notice that particular detail) shot the Krogan several times, which Tali knew to be a bad idea. Even at point-blank, there weren't many guns of that size that could seriously harm a Krogan. The only thing it would accomplish would be annoying him. She held her breath, waiting for the poor, stupid _(naked!) _human to get turned into a wet smear.

Sure enough, the Krogan quickly lost its temper and lunged. The sight of it alone should have been enough to cause anyone to freeze, but the human only vanished from sight again and reappeared a moment later behind the Krogan, completely unharmed. But also _insane_, as he proceeded to latch an arm onto the Krogan's shoulder and brace himself.

She'd expected him to be pulled off his feet and to then be crushed underfoot the enraged Krogan. However, that didn't happen. Instead the Krogan's charge was miraculously stopped by the human's grasp, causing it to lose its footing and flop onto its back in an undignified heap**_… _**with the pistol once again in its face.

How? _How_ did someone the size of an Asari stop something as big as a Krogan with just its own body weight**_._**

"This is the last time I'll ask," the human said loudly, but calmly. "_Where is the Quarian?_"

"I'll tear you to pieces, human!" the Krogan roared as it flailed at him with its arms. "I'll-"

True to his words, that _was_ the last time the human asked. Instead of listening to its enraged threats, he instead delivered a sharp kick to the throat that turned its furious words into gasps and weak coughs.

The human watched its struggles for breath for a moment, looking the alien over for signs that he was just feigning his injuries.

"Shepard, is everything alright over there?" someone yelled.

The human, Shepard apparently, looked back to where the other human had come from.

"I think so," he called out cautiously, studying his surroundings. "But be careful all the same. There might be stragglers. And help out Ashley if you can. We might need her later."

"Right," the other voice agreed. "You'll be looking for the Quarian?"

Shepard shimmered out of view instead of answering, apparently deciding that that the general public (of which there was still a few furtively watching the proceedings, Tali noted. She was amazed the C-sec hadn't arrived yet to put an end to all this. They _were_ on the presidium, after all) had heard enough of their plans.

Tali, for her part, decided that with the Krogan gone-and what was probably all of the guards hired to escort her to the Shadowbroker either dead or fled-it was probably safe to get off the ground.

Cautiously, she got to her feet and scanned her surroundings. Upon seeing a lack of any immediate threats, she decided that now was the best time to get a move on. Even if the people who had taken care of her kidnappers turned out to have her safety in mind, she thought it might be best to meet with them on her own terms. For her own safety, of course. There was no telling what these aliens might take it into their heads to-

The human (the crazy, naked,_ invisible _human!_)_ suddenly appeared in front of her, with strangely reflective eyes and pale, slightly metallic skin. And not a stitch of clothing on him. She did not know why she would have expected otherwise, but this did not make it any less true or alarming.

"Ack!" she squawked in alarm and recoiled from him. "Stay back!"

"Are you a Quarian?" he asked, watching her carefully. "Were you kidnapped?"

"Who are you?" she demanded, more ill at ease with this human that she ever had been with the Shadowbroker thugs. "What do you want? _And why don't you have any clothes?!"_

"Please, calm down," he said while holding his hands up in a gesture of pacification. "My name is Shepard. I only want to find a Quarian that was kidnapped."

This did not reassure Tali, who knew that technically Saren's goons wanted the exact same thing. They just wanted to kill her once they found her. (She also noted with some concern that he hadn't explained why he was naked.)

"Why?" she continued, just as nervously. "Who sent you?"

"Nobody sent us," Shepard answered quickly, backing away from her slowly. "I'm only here to find out what happened on Eden Prime."

That, at least, made her feel a bit better. It seemed the doctor had been more right than she had suspected. But there was still no call to relax just yet.

"And what about the others?" she asked, and nodded behind him where a third human was lifting the foul-mouthed woman out of the reservoir with biotics. They were easy to notice: the woman was even now cursing up a storm, calling both Shepard and Krogans in general a variety of names that would have caused any number of sailors to stop and take notes. Some distance away from them stood a Turian, observing the scene unfold with a look of amused watchfulness. He was no doubt still alert for any threats, but it was hard not to be untouched by some of the more colourful names that were spat out by the angry woman.

"The Turian is with C-sec. The other two are with me on the orders of Donnel Udina, an emissary of the Archon Council," he admitted uneasily, as if that worried him. "I think they can be trusted. Are you a Quarian?"

"What?" Tali snapped, surprised by the inanity of the question. "Of course I am! Haven't you seen a Quarian before?"

"No. I don't get out very often," he admitted honestly, and shrugged. "Please, you wouldn't happen to know anything about Eden Prime, would you?"

Tali hesitated for a moment, weighing her options. She still wasn't sure that these humans could be wholly trusted, but so far they seemed to be. They had, after all, rescued her. And they didn't seem to mean her any immediate harm._Some_ good will might be called for.

"Maybe," she said cautiously, and activated her omni-tool in order to play the recording that had started the whole mess that her life had been transformed into for the past few days.

"_Eden Prime was a great victory: the beacon brought us one step closer to finding the conduit!"_

"_So you say. I distrust these 'visions' of yours, though."_

"_Your distrust is irrelevant. The return of the Reapers draws nigh."_

"Kane," Shepard said with a grim nod. "Where did you get this recording?"

"I salvaged it from a deactivated Geth that I'd found," she explained, getting a bit more enthusiastic. It seemed that their interest in her was only based on the recording, and not so much in hurting her, something that was at the forefront of her mind at the moment. "On Eden Prime."

"From Geth on Eden Prime? Then this is _exactly_ what we need," he repeated, sounding pleasantly surprised. "Please, would you be willing to come with me? I'm sure we can help you in whatever way you wish in exchange."

"Why?" she asked, genuinely curious. "How does that help?"

"Because it at least proves that Citizen Kane was involved with what happened on Eden Prime, and that he's working with others," Shepard explained, and grinned with satisfaction. "Everyone's going to need to know about this."

"Citizen Kane?" every new revelation seemed to bring with it yet another question, something else that needed explaining. As big as the Citadel Extranet was, nothing on it had prepared her for this. "Who's that?"

The human shrugged in a way that somehow expressed that this was a minor detail in the face of something much, much bigger.

"I can explain that later, or maybe on the way," he told her, not unkindly. "If you'd agree to help us, that is."

There was still the question there: no presumption, no demand. He was _asking_ her to help him. Which was enough to convince _her_. Anyone who could beat up a Krogan with their bare hands and then not try to intimidate the people into obedience was probably owed some measure of trust.

"Alright," she agreed and, because it beginning to get just a bit distracting, she addressed the most pressing of issues. "But, erm, could you go invisible again? You're kind of, uhm, naked."

"Eh? Oh, yes," he said, as if suddenly realizing that that was the case. He sounded a bit embarrassed about it, in fact. "Excuse me."

He shimmered out of existence, a vague outline of movement and a distortion of surroundings.

And there it was again. Her new secret fear: invisible naked humans. It would always a possible threat from today onwards.

And _this_ human, she knew, would be close by. He would have to be: they were going to the same place.

Which was going to be horribly awkward unless something was done.

She decided that it would be best to take measures to ensure that things didn't get any worse than they already were.

"Do you think you could hold my hand? Just so I don't..." she made an embarrassed, meaningful glance downwards. "Bump into something?"

"Oh," Shepard sounded even more uncomfortable than before "Uhm. Yes. Yes, we could do that."

She heard a quiet tapping sound that she could almost persuade herself to be bare feet on the floor, and then she felt something grasp her hand with tentative care. Even through her suit, he felt warm to the touch.

The rational part of her mind told her that he was probably even more uncomfortable with the whole situation than she was. It

She could never tell anyone back at the Fleet about this.

She would never live it down.

* * *

"Lieutenant Kaidan," Udina practically said as their motley group entered his office. His voice was as smooth velvet, though his expression was more than a little questioning as he watched them enter. "I'm glad that you've brought me a Quarian, but don't you have a mission to attend to? I'm quite certain I asked Shepard to gather some information for me, and you to help him."

"You did, emissary Udina," Kaidan agreed, and nodded at Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. She was currently looking over the room with equal parts horror and amazement that something so flamboyantly tacky could exist in civilized space. "Tali'Zorah here has the evidence you asked for."

Udina raised an eyebrow at this, and then smiled widely.

"Really?" he said enthusiastically. "And yet Shepard is not with us. Colour me confused, lieutenant."

"Yeah, where _is_ Shepard anyways?" Ashley asked suspiciously even as she nursed a cocktail that she had seemingly produced from nowhere. "I haven't seen hide nor hair of the bastard since he pushed me into the open?"

"He's here, emissary," Kaidan informed him.

"Indeed?" the emissary asked, and frowned thoughtfully. "Shepard?"

"Yes, sir?" the empty air next to Tali said, a bit nervously. Ashley spit-taked at this, spraying her drink into a thin mist before angrily scowling.

"_Shepard?!"_ she hissed, and then scowled. "You've been with _her_ the whole time?! Oh, you better _stay_ invisible, you bastard, or I'll-!"

"Is there any reason why you didn't want to be seen?" Udina interrupted, completely ignoring the angry outburst.

"Err," Shepard grunted uncertainly. "Yes?"

"Ah?" he gave a sidelong glance at Ashley, and shrugged. "Fair enough, then. Let me contact the Council so that we can get on with this. Please, make yourselves comfortable in the meantime."

Shepard shifted nervously, and wondered if he should stop holding the Quarian's hand. They wouldn't be moving around anymore, so it wasn't as if there was any danger of inappropriate contact. (He couldn't remember the last time he had heard _that_ phrase before. Vocational school, maybe. The thought made him feel very old.)

Then again, she didn't look like she wanted to let go anytime soon. He could sympathize somewhat: he could only imagine how strange it must be for her to be surrounded by an array of what must have seemed like exotic aliens (well, a_little_ exotic,) in the seedier part of town.

Thankfully, he was spared further dilemma as the three Councilors once again appeared before them.

There was no mistaking the annoyance on their faces and posture as they did, however.

"Udina," the Turian Councilor greeted with a cool tone. "We were expecting you."

"You were?" the emissary said, sounding genuinely surprised. "Then why you didn't bake me a cake?"

"We've been having the most interesting of reports from C-sec," the Asari said, ignoring Udina completely, and then looked down as if she were reading something. "Fighting on the presidium, and C-sec officers have been dispatched to investigate a case of public indecency. Apparently, there is an invisible nudist Human on the Citadel."

Shepard felt himself blush slightly as the Quarian that was at that very moment holding his hand snickered quietly.

He _really_ wished people wouldn't say it like that. It made him sound like he was some kind of sexual deviant.

"We thought that you would be involved somehow."

"Councilors, I assure you that none of my girls have left the confines of my little club today," Udina assured them, grinning widely. "Believe me, I've been keeping them _very_ busy."

"The human was _male_," the Salarian Councilor stated pointedly.

Udina raised an eyebrow at this, and then looked at the general area Shepard was.

"... Is there something _else_ you'd like to tell me, Shepard?" he asked with a small grin.

Shepard didn't even bother fighting the light warmth that burned his cheeks as he answered.

"It was necessary, sir," he said stiffly, trying not to let his discomfort be heard in his voice. "For the mission."

Donnel Udina just stared in his general direction for a while, obviously trying to work out whether what he was hearing was the truth or some kind of elaborate joke. Not hearing anything but resigned honesty, he gave a quiet chuckle.

"Shepard, the next time one of your missions calls for public indecency, I want you to call me _immediately_," Udina said, obviously amused by the whole situation. "Honestly, some people have all the luck."

"Yes, sir," Shepard agreed, and then decided that now was probably as good a time as any to ask a question that was niggling away at him. "Sir, do you have any spare clothes?"

"Hmm?" Udina looked confused for a moment before realization dawned. "Oh, of course! Just a moment," he fiddled with his omni-tool for a moment before speaking again. "Janelle, would you be so good as to bring us a bathrobe? Thank you."

With that out of the way, Udina leaned back heavily into his chair and gave an expansive shrug as if to express just how little control he had over the galaxy at large and other people in particular.

"Well, until then," he said, and took a sip from his own cocktail before continuing. "I must apologize on Shepard's behalf, Councilors. Apparently his actions were necessary to complete the task I set him."

"And what was this task?"

"I wanted to prove you wrong," Udina said lightly, and grinned. "And apparently, I can. Shepard?"

"Tali'Zorah," Shepard said gravely, "Would you please play the recording once again?"

* * *

The Councilors were looking uneasy by the time it was done, and were exchanging uncertain looks as they tried to silently come to a consensus on how to react to it.

"Well, it seems that you were right, Udina," the Asari Councilor admitted, somewhat reluctantly. "Saren was indeed involved with the attack on Eden Prime, though it appears he was not alone. I also recognized Matriarch Benezia."

Shepard frowned at this. They hadn't recognized Kane? He realized that the Citadel had never really been on speaking terms with the former chairman, but to not be able to recognize his voice? He had been only of the major players in human politics for almost a _century_. Surely that had to count for _something_.

But, then again, humanity was still a small, relatively unknown race. These people had to deal with the politics of hundreds of worlds and factions: it wasn't entirely unreasonable for them not to know the AI from voice alone. Perhaps they didn't even think that AIs were capable of having unique voices? (And Shepard would have to reluctantly agree on this point. While most AIs preferred to maintain a single voice out of consideration for their human employers/co-workers/employees/friends, there was no actual prerogative for them to do so.) They wouldn't know about the specifics of human AIs.

He might have to remedy that.

"Before we proceed, there is a matter that needs addressing," the Turian interjected, looking pointedly at Udina. "By what authority did you give Shepard orders? Shepard serves at _our_ pleasure, emissary, not yours."

The emissary's response to this was to simply shrug once again.

"Actually, not quite yet," Udina started, smiling like a cat that had caught a canary. "Technically he still belongs to the Spectre Nihilus, but since he is sadly not amongst the living any longer Shepard is essentially ownerless until the legal matters are taken care of. As such, he was under no legal obligation to obey me."

Shepard felt a moment of shame upon hearing this. He should have thought about that, and what it meant. About his contract being bought, and the specifics of the matter. But he'd been too distracted by the simple fact that he had been traded away in the first place: it was just not done, after all. Then it was excitement at being employed by the Council, and what _that_ might bring him. And _then_ there had been the whole Eden Prime mess. A lot was going on: he hadn't been able to spare much thought to ask Anderson exactly where his obligations lay after Nihlus had died.

He would need to do better. Now that the bureaucracy of Earth was behind him there would be a new set of rules for him to follow, and he would have to learn them no matter the fashion his new employers saw fit to use him.

As if waiting for the subject of 'need' to arise in his mind, Shepard was supplied with a bathrobe that would at least cover the most important parts by a bored-looking Janelle. He immediately felt a great deal more comfortable, even if it did stop halfway down his thighs. He reflected that a whorehouse might not have been the best of places to enquire about clothing, and made a mental note to never do so again.

Tali'Zorah seemed to visibly relax when he pulled the robe around him and allowed his body phase back into existence. That, too, was something he could understand: nobody was ever truly comfortable with the knowledge that someone like him was always be lurking in some dark corner nearby.

Ashley, however, was openly glowering at him. Shepard had little doubt that the woman would try to get even somehow, but for now he was still basking in the smug afterglow of retribution.

"'_Ownerless'?" _the Asari Councilor repeated, sounding curious. "So then Shepard is a slave?"

Shepard winced at this simplistic view of the situation. While it was probably closer to the truth that he'd have liked to admit, the word itself was very degrading. Slaves were expendable. Slaves had no choices-s Slaves were abused. Slaves were less than human. Slaves were... well, he wasn't a slave. Of that much he could be sure.

"Well, no," Udina admitted with a nonchalant shrug. "He only owes several million credits for the cost of his birth, augmentation, education, implants and equipment provided to him by those who created him, and has wisely chosen to pay it back through services rendered. The contract that outlines these services is what Nihilus purchased the rights to."

Shepard suddenly didn't feel as strongly about his convictions as he had a moment before.

"Which now belongs to us, emissary Udina," the Salarian informed them, his words coming quickly after Udina had spoken. "Some of the paperwork is still being processed, but as you can clearly see these are now mere formalities."

Udina paused, and then leaned forward so that he could inspect the documents for himself. He was silent for what seemed like a long time, a frown growing on his mouth as he did. When he finally looked up from the document, he wasn't happy.

"... These were signed and dated less than an hour ago," he said, the warmth in his voice gone. It was instead replaced with cold indifference. "I was under the impression that the legal matters would take more than a week to sort out."

"We saw fit to lend some expediency to the matter," the Salarian Councilor said, somewhat smugly. "Would you like to submit a complaint?"

"..." Udina said. It didn't seem physically possible to speak with silence, but Udina managed it magnificently as he carefully studied the holographic document in front of him as if daring it to present him with something to complain about. When it failed to do so, a change came over him. He turned back into the charming diplomat once more, all smiles and good cheer. "Of course not, Councilors! Citadel policy is _not_ my concern!"

"Good," the Asari Councilor said, and smiled brightly. "Then you will have no objection if we nullify Shepard's contract."

There was a moment of perfect stillness in which a dropped pin could be heard, but such moments never lasted.

"_What?!"_

The words were said by every human in the room in the exact same tone.

Shepard felt as if someone had hit him in the head. The mere notion of just outright _nullifying_ his contact was enough to do that.

Udina leaned back heavily, a look of utter disbelief on his face.

"Ah, are you_ certain?"_ he said, and for just a moment his voice did not seem to be wholly under his control. He pressed on, trying to reign his shock in. "Have you_ read_ his contract, by any chance? You might find it to be..._enlightening_."

"Yes, we have," the Salarian Councilor affirmed, nodding curtly. "And we did indeed find it 'enlightening'. We were so interested that we have forwarded a copy to our legal aides, who assured us that 'indentured servitude' was the kindest of ways to describe it. While we recognize that we cannot influence Earth's opinion on the matter, we can and will uphold our own laws."

"'Uphold your own laws'," Udina repeated weakly, and made a sound that wasn't quite like a laugh. "Well, I certainly can't stop that. Far be it for me to question the wisdom of spending an exorbitant amount of credits on a contract only to nullify it."

He turned to address the InVitro, and gave a solemn nod.

"Congratulations seem to be in order, Shepard," he said with sickly cheer. "To freedom."

"I- but-" he flailed for the right words to express his feelings.

"_What just happened?!" _he wanted to shout. "_What did you do?!"_

As much as Udina's gross simplification had taken the wind out of his sails, he would be the _first_ to object to simply _nullifying _it. Because as much as it turned him into a slave, it had also been a very important part of his life. He knew it inside and out, and so long as he upheld his part of it then the world was his oyster. There was a vested interest in keeping him happy and loyal, after all.

But now?

Now he was on his own. There was no safety net: from now on, the only person responsible for his decisions was himself. He was responsible for his own wellbeing.

That thought alone was enough to make him uncertain, to say the least.

Shepard froze, as he had a sickening realization that he was probably going to have to start immediately.

He supposed that the first thing to do was to pick a side.

And, as much as his recent liberation troubled him, it _did_ make his first choice _very_ easy to make. He could appreciate the sentiment even if he was still struggling with the repercussions.

"Then I will be serving the Council from now on?" he asked cautiously of the holograms, not sparing a glance for Udina. As the man had pointed out, he couldn't order Shepard to do anything he didn't already want to do. "Without obligation to the TOC or the Archon Council?"

The Councilors regarded him with genuine interest, turning as one to face him.

Udina perked up at that. There was a look of pure horror on his face, like someone who has just realized that the light at the end of the tunnel was an oncoming train.

"Shepard," he said quietly. "We need to talk about this."

"You do not 'serve' us, Shepard. It is our hope that you will work for us of your own free will," the Asari Councilor corrected him. "You have no more obligations."

'_Except to have the common sense not to go blurting national secrets,'_ Shepard mentally added. But there was a small thing he could do. That he _had_ to do: Kane needed to be put down before he went even worse than he already had. And it wasn't like he didn't feel morally obligated to inform others of the threat that something like Kane represented. The Citadel _deserved_ to know about him.

"Then there is something else I must report, Councilors," he said, feeling more confident about himself. It was almost like addressing a TOC board member, except different in every way that didn't matter. "About the recording."

"Shepard," Udina said quietly. "Think long and hard about this."

"The second voice on the recording," Shepard pressed on, ignoring the emissary. "I know who it is."

"_Shepard!_" Udina hissed in warning.

"It's Kane. Citizen Kane, the former chairman of the Turing Oversight Committee," the former TOC agent said in a quick rush, feeling a perverse rush of pleasure in revealing the secret. "He has been missing for months, but it seems that he's joined the Geth."

The Council didn't speak for a moment. They just watched him carefully, as if waiting for something else. Shepard wondered briefly if they weren't aware of just what the TOC did, but _that_ much seemed impossible. They _had_ to have learned about it during the war.

"Yes," the Salarian said eventually, somewhat reluctantly. "We know."

The room went dead again at this. The Turian took advantage of the silence by clearing his throat and speaking next

"We are more informed in human matters than Earth would like to believe, Shepard," he explained, sounding as if he wasn't exactly thrilled about admitting as much. "We are well acquainted with the former chairman, and what his involvement means."

"But we appreciate the gesture," the Asari added quickly.

"Indeed," the Turian Councilor agreed, giving Shepard a look of appraisal. "Nihlus's last report indicated that you would be amenable to working with us, and we are pleased that he does not seem to be wrong."

The three exchanged significant looks, the meaning of which was apparently enough for them to reach a silent agreement.

"Once you are finished with Udina, please come to the Presidium. There are things we would like to discuss. Such as your induction into the Spectres, among other things."

"Until then, Shepard."

And with that, the three holograms winked out of existence.

Nobody moved or spoke for a moment

"Shepard," Udina said pleasantly, though a bit strained. "Please, help yourself to a drink. You'll be spending some time with the Council in a few moments, and you're going to need it."

The smile suddenly fell, and something unfamiliar glinted in the man's eyes. It was cold, unfriendly and full of deadly promise.

"And then get the hell out of my office before I have you shot."

* * *

**AN: **So.

It's been a while.

I've got no excuse for that. Shit happened, and I got distracted. Super-distracted. I do that sometimes.

But I'm gonna try and give this thing another run. Mostly because my primary distraction has soured for me.

Some people might have noted a change in writing style. That happens when you go away for a year or so. That said, I'm trying to have _fun_ with this story. (Always a prime motivator for me.) That's why Ash is a joke this chapter, and why nudist!Shepard happens.

With that said, I'm going to get some things out of the way:

1: Yes, Shepard has pretty much cut ties with Earth. There will be repercussions for this, as you will see next chapter.

2: There should be a poll up on my profile where everyone can vote on which mission you want Shepard & co to go to first. Bear in mind that the first stop is already decided, and it's Therum.

I'll leave it up for a while, see where things go from there. There may or may not be a similar vote for the Virmire mission.

3: I will be taking liberties with some things, the biggest of which will be Noveria. There will be no Rachni there. (Because now that the series is complete it's safe to say that it served little point.) Instead, there will be something more human.

4: There will be a different reason for the Reaper-cycles here. Hopefully it will make more sense. (Because fuck Space-God.)

So yeah.

And yes: Ashley brought a sword to a gun fight, and then Wrex brought his fists to a sword fight. They _both_ win the manliness award.

Lastly: many thanks to Janizary, who made me feel incredibly guilty for putting this story into Limbo and then egged me into continuing it. He almost single-handedly resuscitated the fic. And then he graciously agreed to look this over and shame me for making mistakes.

Right, with all that out of the way, let's get to the important part: praise me! Tell me I am awesome! (Because I am insufferably vain.) Or stimulate my imagination with interesting questions! Or... something.

'Til next time, take it easy peoples


	6. Chapter 4: On The Road Again

**Rogue Nation**

** Chapter IV: On The Road Again**

* * *

_The Archon Victor Mallus of Arcturus Station came under nation-wide attention this evening when he blacklisted the entirety of the catholic faith from the station after they staged a protest of bill that was being voted on at the Low Council that would allow for more InVitro soldiers to be allotted to the station. Most consider the Archon's measures draconian, but Mallus was quick to defend his actions._

"_If I wanted to know what people thought was ethical more than two thousand years ago, I'd visit a museum, not a government facility," the Archon told the press. "The CEG charter is very clear on the matters of religion and the freedom of speech: they are privileges, not rights. It is for this reason that I will not allow these slurs on the backbone of our special forces continue. The combat efficiency of the InVitros are very well-documented. The catholic god's is not, and our borders cannot be secured by prayers."_

_Because of this, the station is expecting a brief period of unrest as terrified citizens scrabble to flee the station before the grace period they have been granted has expired, after which all property left behind will be seized by the government. The crews of the cruisers December 25__th__, the Halcyon as well as the first human dreadnaught-class starship 'Sun Jester' will be on standby to keep the peace. Citizens are advised not to travel to the Arcturus Station in the next few weeks_

_Archon Victor Mallus will speak with the rest of the Archon Council next week to appeal for similar measures to be taken by other Archons. If his appeal is granted, this could mean a wave in antitheist legislature not seen since the Corporate Wars._

_- Voice of the Void, Demeter: Always ready with the latest news! –_

Shepard had decided, sometime in the last few days, that hell was indeed other people. Specifically, it was the people he was in charge of.

And since the _Normandy_ had been given to him as a 'gift' from Udina (he still wasn't sure if it wasn't one of the most bizarre and roundabout ways of punishing someone in the whole of recorded history,) he had been in charge of a _lot_ of people.

His irritation was tempered by the knowledge that things could be a _lot_ worse. The _Normandy_ could have been _fully staffed_, which would have brought the number up to around thirty. As it was, however, Udina had stripped the ship of every Human that wasn't absolutely necessary. Which meant that the crew was now almost wholly made up of Turians. There was a whole six individuals who _weren't_ Turian, in fact: three Humans, a Quarian, a Krogan and a synthetic citizen. Of the Humans, there was himself, Dr. Chakwas and Joker. Everyone else was gone.

Even with the crew reduced by almost half of its previous number – or perhaps _because_ – the management of the ship was proving to be more than a little bewildering. There was over twenty crewmen he was now responsible for, and that meant reorganizing the sleeping shifts, making sure that each station was sufficiently manned, and all the other duties he'd never had to deal with before.

He was lucky that Garrus Vakarian had been dispatched to his command.

Shepard was certain that without the C-sec officer's help the ship would have been reduced to chaos within a week. There was just so much to be done, barely enough people to do them, and a whole mess of other problems that Shepard had been more than happy to push onto the Turian's plate by making him the ship's executive officer. Garrus, for his part, seemed to be annoyed but otherwise perfectly fine with the situation.

Shepard knew that he was expected to show some leadership skills, but he was woefully out of his depth. He was perfectly at home with infiltrating a maximum-security military facility without leaving any trace of having been there. He could spot a defective AI after spending only a half-hour with one, and could then either try to correct the error in its code or systematically dismantle it before it could do any harm. He knew how and where to shoot or hit someone so that their SOUL was irreparably damaged.

Micromanagement and logistics was not something he was well-versed with. That was the province of men and women with briefcases.

But he wasn't letting Garrus take care of everything. No, what he was instead doing was getting everything in order for the upcoming mission.

He'd been somewhat surprised that the Council had been willing to give him a mission so soon after becoming a Spectre, but he supposed that there was no sense in waiting when the likes of Saren, Kane and Benezia were running around the galaxy. There wasn't a whole lot of information on their whereabouts to be found even for the Council, but what little there was at the moment pointed towards the one that Shepard knew the least about: Matriarch Benezia.

Apparently the woman was trying to recruit her daughter, an archaeologist currently residing on Therum under the auspices of the Human corporation Eldfell-Ashland Energy. It was likely that was the only reason that the Council knew of Benezia's presence there in the first place: the doctor's research there was the product of long negotiations and many compromises from both the company itself and the Council, and both parties were _very_ interested in her wellbeing. Diplomacy could be a wonderful thing for some people.

He wasn't too sure just what he should expect once he got there. Reports about the planet's situation were few and far between, as the Geth were doing a good job of keeping things quiet. About the only good thing about the whole situation was that nobody at Eldfell-Ashland Energy had contacted a Rapid Response team yet, likely to avoid the steep fees that doing so would entail.

That was where he had stepped in. Garrus, for all that he practically managed the ship, was blissfully unaware of how to cut through the bureaucracy that the Fringe corporations operated with. Shepard had managed to secure full access to the planet's surface on the condition that he assess the situation and determine the best course of action to stop the trouble that was brewing there.

He wasn't exactly looking forward to fighting the Geth again, but there wasn't exactly a huge abundance of options available to him. Therum, by all accounts, was a treacherous place. While he would have preferred to infiltrate one of the company's main facilities, he knew that wouldn't be the case: dr. T'soni's last reported location had been at her dig-site, which meant deep underground caverns. With the Geth presence, that was unlikely to change in the near future.

He had a rough idea of who he should bring along. The Quarian, for one, should come along. He hadn't really considered it at the time, but Cecil had been kind enough to point out that she had _salvaged something from a synthetic mind_, along with all the implications that entailed in regards to her actual skill. (Cecil hadn't exactly meant it in a flattering way, however. Whatever respect he might have had for the fear was overshadowed by the simple fact that she could rip his own thoughts out of his mind.) If she could pull off that kind of precision work he had little doubt that she could also wreak merry hell on the Geth.

He was less certain about who else to bring.

Well, no. He _did_ know who he should bring. He just wasn't entirely certain if doing so was the greatest of ideas.

This was because the other person he wanted to bring was the Krogan, Urdnot Wrex.

Shepard wasn't too sure what the Krogan was doing on his ship, but knew that it had something to do with the Council trying to flesh out his crew a bit in the aftermath of Udina's meddling. And through a horrendously bad stroke of luck the Krogan had somehow ended up on the shortlist of people who would to join the crew. Apparently 'Urdnot Wrex' was a name to watch out for to some people, and after failing to complete his previous mission he was back on the market.

He suspected that this too was Udina's influence, though he wasn't certain how exactly.

The only good thing about the situation was that Ashley was gone. He didn't want to consider having _two_ people on his own ship trying to get even with him. He wouldn't have survived the week.

Shepard was trying to stay out of the lower levels of the ship as much as humanly possible, and whenever he was forced to go there he did so under the protection of invisibility. He didn't do this because he was afraid of the monstrously strong alien, (it certainly played a part, though. Without adrenaline pumping through his veins, Shepard came realized that the Krogan was _huge_.) but rather because there was a lot of expensive equipment on the _Normandy_, and he wasn't exactly eager to test his crew's ability to fix anything that might get broken by a rampaging muscle-monster.

But he realized that he was going to _have_ to deal with this sooner rather than later if he ever wanted to go down to the engineering level without skulking about like a thief.

Inside of the captain's quarters, Shepard sighed heavily and steeled himself for what was to come. He comforted himself with the knowledge that at least _this_ time he would be fully clothed for the encounter. This optimism was tempered by the knowledge that the Krogan would also be a stone's throw away from the _arsenal_. Diplomacy, he decided, was probably going to be his first and possibly last option.

He rose and, upon remembering his past attempts at diplomacy, decided that it might be best to bring his pistol all the same. Words could be tricky and treacherous, but guns spoke a universal language.

He gave a final look across his quarters, and then stepped into the _Normandy's_ main hall, and almost stepped into a Turian crewman as he did so.

Shepard didn't recognize him, but that was hardly out of the ordinary. There were several new faces, and it wasn't as if he was all that familiar with most of the crew in any case. He hadn't really bothered much with them before Eden Prime, preferring his own company, and it was only now that he realized that that had been a mistake. It was all well and good to be an unknown factor as an agent and infiltrator of the TOC, but he should have realized that once the Archons had gotten a hold of his contract that this might have changed.

Shepard's crash course in emancipated life and leadership was rapidly revealing a number of deficiencies in his previous lifestyle that he had never even considered. It was not a pleasant experience for him to realize that the life he had lived not a month ago was very similar to that of, for example, a machine.

He would have to take care of that, along with a great many other personality faults that were beginning to come to light. It made him wonder just why anyone had thought he would be a good fit for the Spectres in the first place, seeing as they were supposed to be the best the galaxy had to offer.

For now, though, there was a Turian to speak to.

"Hello," he greeted, curious as to what the alien wanted from him. A quick glance at its uniform informed him of its designation and rank: head of engineering. "Did you need something?"

"Sir," the Turian saluted. "I was hoping to speak with you about a certain matter pertaining to one of the crewmen you enlisted."

Shepard sighed internally. He should have known that it was too much to expect to not be confronted by some fresh demand of his authority. He _really_ needed to delegate some of these things to someone. The problem was finding that person, however.

"Which one, exactly?" he asked wearily, and without quite knowing why he turned to face the area just outside his office and room that had become the de facto gathering place for the Turians ever since the Humans had left. Even now there were a trio of them there sharing a meal and speaking in low voices, probably half-listening to his conversation at the same time.

It was a little unnerving to be a minority on his own ship, but things seemed to be going well so far. As strange an idea as it seemed, with most of the former crew gone things seemed to have calmed down a bit, which in turn made him feel a little bit better himself. Much of the tension that Shepard had been leery of during their shakedown run to Eden Prime had left with the Humans. Or rather, Kaidan Alenko. There was only so many times the man could call a Turian a 'lizard', 'scaly sons of whores', or possibly even 'bird that walks like a man' before the animosity was reciprocated.

That at least, was about as much of a silver lining as he was going to get.

The engineer shifted his feet nervously.

"It's about the Qaurian," he said. "She keeps trying to get into the engine room."

"The Quarian?" Shepard repeated. A name floated into his mind, and with it came a brief wave of embarrassment as he remembered how they'd met. He repressed to memory and pushed on, hoping that he hadn't blushed. "You mean Tali'Zorah."

Shepard noted the subtle shift of the Turian's face plates, and wondered what it meant.

"... Yes, her," he said with a note of hesitancy in his voice. "We were wondering if you could talk to her, maybe get her to stop."

"Stop what?" Shepard asked, a bit confused about the whole situation.

"Stop her trying to get into the engine room, sir," the turian said with strained patience. "She's disturbing us."

"Why does she want to get in?"

"What?" the question seemed to have taken the engineer by surprise. This time Shepard was certain that he recognized the way his mandibles moved and his faceplates shifted downwards as a clear indication of irritation. "I don't know! How should I know that?"

"By asking her, maybe?" Shepard asked rhetorically, and shook his head. "No, never mind it. I'll be down there anyways. I'll talk to her about it while I'm there."

"Thank you, sir," the Turian said. Shepard was careful to watch the way he eased back into a more relaxed stance. "I'll return to my post then, sir."

As he began to turn Shepard stopped him

"Just a moment, please," he said. "What is your name? I'm sorry to admit that I haven't learned everyone's yet."

"Oh," the Turian seemed surprised at this, and then embarrassed on Shepard's behalf. Which seemed an odd thing to him, because he couldn't recall an instance in his life when he'd ever been embarrassed for a superior officer. Maybe _of_, but never _for_. "Heurades, sir. Heurades Siccar."

"Thank you, Siccar," Shepard said, and did his best to smile in a friendly manner. He wasn't sure about the protocol for names with Turians, but he decided to play it safe by sticking to surnames. "And now if you'll excuse me, I must speak with a man about a mission."

Shepard wasn't bothered by the strange look the chief engineer gave him as he went about his business. He'd been expecting it: most of the more obscure sayings and colloquiums weren't registered in the Citadel translation modules, and likely never would unless humanity joined. It felt good to know that he was probably just as strange to his Turian counterpart as they were to him.

Instead of explaining the esoteric lore of nineteenth century plays or the strange slang that came from it, he pressed on towards the elevator and the lower levels while trying very hard not to think of all the damage that several hundred pounds of muscle and the casual malevolence could wreak upon his ship.

As the doors closed shut behind him and the elevator began its slow descent, he couldn't help but think that that had been a poor subject to dwell on.

* * *

When he reached the lower levels of the _Normandy_ and the door opened up there was only one thing on Shepard's mind: how to make it all into something that didn't resemble a terrible mistake.

He was having some difficulty with the prospect.

Unfortunately, the Krogan spotted him the moment the elevator opened up, and with an unmistakably angry scowl began stomping towards him.

There are few things in the galaxy more terrifying than a Krogan moving with angry purpose, and it could safely be argued that Wrex was more Krogan than most.

"_You,_" the mountain of an alien said, though the way he growled it out made it sound more like a curse. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Krogan foresight, however, was apparently a rare and wondrous thing that had no place on the Citadel or, for that matter, the _Normandy_. Shepard was beginning to get an idea of why Wrex had agreed to accompany him on this mission: total ignorance.

Which, given the circumstances, was probably better than malevolent forethought.

Shepard didn't have an immediate response to the question, if only because of all scenarios he'd envisioned this had _not_ been one of them. Instead, he simply blurted out the first thing that popped into his head.

"This is my ship," he stated blankly. "Why _wouldn't_ I be on it?"

This seemed to take the Krogan by surprise.

"What?" he growled out. "What do you mean, "it's your ship"? This is Spectre ship!"

"Yes," Shepard agreed. "And I'm a Spectre."

The Krogan stared at him long and hard, those big reptilian eyes widening for a second with surprise

"But you're Human," he said, as if the fact were not painfully obvious.

"Yes," Shepard confirmed, not allowing himself to smile at the ridiculous question.

"And a Spectre," this seemed to be something of a sticking point.

"Yes."

Wrex was silent for a long while as it processed the conflicting natures of the two statements. Everyone knew that Humans were not fans of the Citadel. They were famous for it, in fact. And now one of them was one of their most prestigious and decorated agents?

Apparently the idea tickled the Krogan, because what could only be a grin appeared on his face.

"Huh," he grunted. "How'd you manage to swing that?"

Shepard was glad that the conversation seemed to be turning in a direction that didn't include fighting.

"I implicated that a former Spectre and the Chai-" Shepard remembered what happened the last time he had revealed that particular detail, and decided that there was a large difference between the Council and a random Krogan mercenary who may or may not want to kill him. He decided that it wasn't worth tempting fate, and quickly amended himself. "Sorry, a figure in Human politics were involved in an attack on a Human colony."

This, it seemed, failed to impress the Krogan.

"That's it?" he snorted derisively. "Hmmph, if I'd known that it was that easy to become a Spectre I'd have done it myself."

Shepard considered this for a moment. For an outsider, it really _wasn't_ very impressive. He hadn't even done all the work. A great deal of luck had been involved, in fact. If the Quarian had gone to a different clinic, if Fist hadn't made a killed an operative, if Fade hadn't been the first person they'd gone to… nothing would have come of it all. There were too many coincidences and lucky breaks for him to really be considered for the position.

Unless there was some other reason to make him a Spectre. He was no stranger to the duplicity of politicians, after all. There was undoubtedly an ulterior motive involved.

But he was prepared to forgive them that. They seemed benevolent enough.

"... I also disabled a biotic Krogan with nothing but a pistol and the skin on my back," Shepard added, deciding that the best time to bring the subject up was when there was at least a seeming of congeniality. "They were very impressed."

There was a tense moment as the Krogan froze and scowled at Shepard. The man realized that he might have made a mistake, and quickly tried to prevent the situation from getting any more out of hand.

He did not do a very good job of it.

"I would like to point out that I still have a pistol," the InVitro stated calmly, pulling the weapon in question out of its holster. He held it loosely at his side, ready to be raised at a moment's notice. "I don't think that the outcome will change very much."

"Heh," the massive reptile grunted with amusement, and there was a blur of movement. "But this time _I_ have a shotgun!"

Shepard noted that for such a large person the Krogan moved with alarming speed. The shotgun was still unfolding by the time he'd freed it from its holster at his back and aimed it squarely at Shepard's chest. He realized now that a pistol really wasn't going to do him any good at this point, despite the fact that he'd managed to raise it in time to point it at the Krogan as well.

Luckily, neither of them pulled their respective triggers. Each of them seemed to be waiting on something from the other, though Shepard wasn't exactly clear on just what that might be.

Shepard had been hoping to avoid something like this. It never boded well when someone pointed a gun at him. He decided to give friendliness one last try before he cloaked, fled the scene and then killed the Krogan from a safe vantage point. (If Shepard weren't being threatened with immediate death, he might have reflected on the fact that most people didn't contemplate murder upon failing to befriend an enemy, and would have tallied that as yet another personality fault he would have to deal with.)

"Yes," he agreed without letting a bit of worry into his voice. "And _I_ have pants. Should we call it even?"

The Krogan scowled at this, clearly not understanding.

"Pants? What does that have to do with-" and then it seemed to suddenly dawned on him, because he stopped and lowered his weapon. "Oh. Heh. I get it. You're funny for a scrawny monkey."

Shepard bristled somewhat at the comment, but rationalized it with the simple knowledge that, to a Krogan, there probably wasn't a whole lot in the galaxy that _wasn't_ scrawny. The monkey part, however also technically valid. Just not very nice. But as it was a slur against humanity as a whole, he decided that it wasn't worth getting upset over.

More importantly, however, was the lowered shotgun. Not completely stowed away, of course, but it was still a promising gesture. He returned it, and went one further by replacing his pistol back in its holster. If the giant frog-dinosaur wasn't going to make the first move then neither was he.

"I try to be, sometimes," Shepard said and proffered a hand. "Whenever I'm not on a mission. I'm Shepard, by the way."

The Krogan looked down speculatively at the hand. He looked to be sizing it up.

Eventually, after what seemed to be a very long time to Shepard, the Krogan reached out and shook it.

"Urdnot Wrex," he announced gruffly, and broke into a grin. "You do realize that once we're done with this I'm going to rip you to pieces, Spectre or not?"

Shepard frowned at this, but he supposed that this was the best he was going to get. Which wasn't too bad, he supposed: at least he _knew_ it was coming. That was a courtesy not to be sneezed at.

"I can work with that," he agreed reluctantly. "I probably won't need you afterwards, anyway."

"Heh," Wrex chuckled, and disengaged his shotgun fully and stowed it behind his back once more. "Looking forward to it."

Shepard decided that this was as friendly as things were going to get.

"Then start getting ready," he told the Krogan, beginning to feel better about the whole situation. "I'd like to bring you with me when we get to Therum."

"Hmmh?" Wrex grunted, a bit surprised. "Aren't you just being a _little_ bit quick to trust me?"

Shepard blinked at this, and then smirked.

"I'm human. We are well-acquainted to the idea of shifting loyalties," he said with amusement. "You know that woman who also attacked you? The last time we worked together, she betrayed and shot me."

"Really?" the Krogan said, and must have smiled. On a mouth that big and with that many teeth, Shepard _hoped_ it was a smile. "Is that why she isn't with you anymore?"

"No, that was because of someone else," Shepard said, and had the grace to sound embarrassed. "_I_ was the one who changed sides that time, actually."

Wrex stared at him for a long while with a blank look on his face, only to shake his head after coming to a conclusion of some kind.

"... I never thought I would agree with a Turian, but I guess there's no helping it," he muttered. "You humans are _weird_."

Shepard made a note to investigate that little tidbit of information later when he had time. As it was there wasn't enough of it free for him to find out why they thought he was strange, especially because he knew it was so very true.

But for now, there were more pressing issues. He had to speak with Tali'Zorah.

If there was one person on the ship that he avoided more than Wrex, it was her. Because she made him very awkward, and the reason behind it was something of a mystery to him.

They had spoken only once after their meeting with Udina and the Council, where she had nervously asked to accompany him on his mission to stop the Geth and their leaders from doing whatever it was they were doing. And the way she had stammered and flustered her way through the conversation had been infectious, because somehow he had also found himself with a stutter that he had never before possessed.

Worse had been the embarrassment. Every time her gaze had slowly migrated downwards only to snap back up to his eyes a second later had brought with it a fresh reminder of why it kept happening, and with that came the blush and the nervous shifting of feet and all the other things that he hadn't had to deal with since he was a teenager at occupational school. Perhaps not even then, because he had a suspicion that he'd received chemical treatment just to avoid that sort of thing. It was ridiculous: they weren't even the same _species_. There was no call for her to get so embarrassed, and in doing so make him equally embarrassed!

Yes, the problem with Tali'Zorah was trickier than Wrex. Less chance of getting killed, obviously, but still tricky.

Fear was easy to deal with: you ignored it or you confronted it. Shepard couldn't do the former in this situation, and he knew that the former would only make things worse.

He grimaced, and steeled himself for what was to come. While it shamed him that all it took was one woman fidgeting nervously to so disturb him, it wasn't like there was any lasting harm to it. And at least she hadn't tried to kill him yet. That, at least, was something in her favor.

He found her at the entrance to the engine room, arguing with an engineer who was blocking her entry.

"… not trying to 'steal' anything!" she complained loudly. "I just want to-"

"Listen, I've got my orders," the engineer informed her with a firm tone. "Nobody gets inside here without the chief's say-so, and he says that nobody without clearance is getting anywhere near the core."

"Fine! That's fine! But surely I can-"

"For the last time, _no_. This ship carries experimental and sensitive tech, and the _last_ person we want dealing with it is a Quarian!"

"But that's-"

"_No!"_ the engineer interrupted forcefully. "Now get out of here before I have to call in the captain!"

Shepard sensed that this was the perfect moment to intervene.

"Let me save you some time," he interjected, and approached the two. "What seems to be the problem?"

The two aliens froze at the sound of his voice, and with glacial speed then turned to face him.

"Shepard!" the Turian said with surprise and alarm, and nervously saluted. "Erm, the Quarian-"

"Tali'Zorah," Shepard interrupted, and tried to sound only _gently_ chiding. "We all have names here. What is yours, by the way?"

By the way the engineer flinched at the correction and question, it seemed he had failed at the 'gentle' part.

"J- Junior engineer Hieriliax, sir," the engineer stuttered. "Uhm, I have orders to forbid anyone without clearance from entering the core, sir. Too much new tech, sir."

Shepard raised an eyebrow at this reason, obviously

"... You _do_ realize that it isn't all in there, yes?" Shepard asked slowly. "If she was after sensitive tech, she could have gotten it from any number of places."

Which was true, but only in theory: since the ship didn't have a dedicated ECM-system, there wasn't anything worth mentioning to stop anyone with even the meanest of hacking skills from getting any information they wanted.

The only thing stopping them was the simple fact that Cecil would likely object to that sort of thing, and it was a bad idea to anger someone that could open airlocks or seal rooms. But he wasn't too sure how that would be working out, actually. Outside of the CEG, Special Cases were even more unique than they inherently were.

"Erm," the engineer, obviously unprepared to be so openly called out like that, didn't have an immediate answer. Instead, he merely gaped at Shepard dumbly "I- uhm, yes?"

"So you're not keeping her out for security purposes," Shepard pressed.

"Err," the Turian still didn't know just what was going on, but didn't see much opportunity to disagree. "No? I mean, not to my knowledge, sir."

"And you, Tali'Zorah," Shepard turned to address the Quarian in question. "Why do you want to enter the engineering level?"

"W-well," the nervous stammer in her voice made Shepard uneasy, but he did his best to ignore it. "I'm used to working on ships, and I just thought that I could help out a bit."

Shepard gave her a curious look, but decided not to comment on that. While he found it somewhat odd that she would volunteer her services, he supposed there were worse ways to pass the time than to work on a state-of-the-art warship.

"Well, then feel free to help out wherever you can," Shepard told her. "We're understaffed at the moment, so I'm sure that we could find a use for your skills."

"But, sir," the Turian started to preotest protest. "She's a _Quarian!_"

"Yes?" the human said, nonplussed. "And?"

"Don't you _know_ about them, sir?" there was a note of desperation in the engineer's voice

Shepard looked at him in confusion, not understanding what he was getting at.

He turned to inspect the Quarian in question, trying to figure out just what the engineer was getting at. And, for the first time, he really _looked_ at her without feeling a pressing need to escape her infectious awkwardness.

She was the first Quarian he had ever seen, as her kind seemed to be leery of getting too close to even the Fringe. He could hardly blame them, though: the corporations could be a veritable wall against the rest of the galaxy if they wanted to, and he very much doubted any of them were eager to have a drain on resources like the Migrant Fleet get too close to their precious resources, no matter the possible gains.

And he couldn't help but wonder at what might happen if they ever did. The synthetic citizenship certainly wouldn't like it, because they were naturally biased against a people whose main claim to fame was that they had once created sentient machines and then promptly tried to destroy them. And if the Special Cases openly protested, what might then happen? A great portion of humanity's strength was built upon the willing cooperation of its synthetics, and if that cooperation was ever threatened there would be dire consequences. Civil war, possibly.

As a human, he found that he was grateful that such a thing had never come to pass. Even if he wasn't on the friendliest of terms with the CEG, he didn't want to see it collapse either. That would just make everything worse.

Still, he would be glad to have her on his team. While he was familiar with human AIs, his early efforts to read up on the Geth had revealed that they were much, _much_ different from the sort with which he was familiar. Networked consciousness? Shepard had asked Cecil for his thoughts on such a thing, and had been surprised to hear the AI voice what might have been utter disgust had it come from a Human.

And if he had to occasionally wonder just what she looked like when she was showering him with pure embarrassment from underneath her faceplate? Well, that was something he could-

Wait.

Faceplate. Environmental suit.

Of course.

How could he have forgotten?

"Ah. You're right. Thank you for reminding me," Shepard nodded in agreement "Are you sure you'll be alright working down here, miss Zorah? I understand that you race has a certain medical condition that might make things problematic for you."

"What?" the Quarian said, sounding confused. "Oh. Y-yyyeess, yes I should be alright."

"Well, then I guess that's sorted out,"

"That's all?" she asked, sounding as if she didn't quite believe it.

"Actually, no." Shepard said, glad that he could finally get back on task. "Miss Zorah, we will be landing on Therum soon, and I was hoping you would lend us your expertise in fighting the Geth."

* * *

Tali'Zorah watched Shepard leave feeling a veritable cocktail of emotions.

She was a little bit happy to have been so casually accepted by the Human. Such a thing hadn't happened since she had left the Migrant Fleet on her Pilgrimage, and it was a welcome change from the suspicion and disdain that she was more acquainted with.

There was also a bit of... well, something. She supposed it was gratitude, or maybe admiration, for the way the human had so easily defused the situation with the Turian. She'd been getting nowhere with them ever since she had stepped foot on the ship, and the way he simply came out of nowhere and effortlessly succeeded where she'd failed spoke of the respect he commanded.

But chief among them was surprise. She'd suspected that much of the galaxy's prejudice against her people might be somewhat lessened, considering that Humanity seemed to be one of the most isolationist species that she had ever encountered. But complete and utter ignorance? That was unexpected. It was... refreshing, to be treated without a shred of prejudice by someone not a Quarian.

She hadn't known what to expect from the Human when she had first volunteered her services in order to stop the Geth, and it was getting more than little confusing trying to work it.

At first she had thought that she had done something wrong, because he seemed to have been avoiding her. (Which she had been somewhat glad of, since every encounter brought with it a fresh reminder that she was now familiar with basic human anatomy in a way that most people weren't.)

But then she had realized that, despite her feelings on the matter, she would have to get acquainted with the de facto captain of the ship if she ever hoped to be recognized as a real part of the crew. And so she had begun to try and seek him out whenever she wasn't unsuccessfully trying to get into the engineering bay in order to pitch in.

Predictably, however, it seemed that invisible Humans were a pretty elusive bunch. She had already tried following him three times before, only for him to simply vanish as he rounded a corner. Obviously it seemed that he was avoiding her.

Up until just that moment she had suspected that maybe the Turian crew had gotten to him, and filled his head with slander against her kind.

But then he appeared out of nowhere and solved everything for her with a single conversation. Oh, and also asked for 'her expertise' on a mission.

She found herself dwelling on that part in particular.

It was nice to know that she was appreciated.

But it also raised an important question: if Shepard didn't think badly of her, what _did_ he think?

What did it mean when a Human started acting awkwardly towards and avoiding someone?

She might have to talk to somebody about this.

* * *

**AN**: Apparently there was something of a SNAFU regarding that whole 'poll' business I mentioned last chapter. (The fact that I have never made one before is _completely unrelated_. I did _not_ forget to display it to the public for the first week or so!) It should be up and working fine now. So yeah.

Also, we're gonna start rolling with public deadlines. That's right: I'm going to put a set date on my profile, and if I don't meet it I encourage you all to rain down indignant fury down upon me. I'm going to try for a biweekly schedule, so let's see how well this works! Because I would like to _finish_ this story within the year so that I can get started on... something _awesome_.

So.

Next chapter: 'Driving A Tank Up The Phlegethon' – published on the 29th. Syroc promises. Please do not denigrate the value of such a promise, even if it is warranted.

On to the actual chapter stuff.

So… short and sweet. Except not very sweet. Or short. Mostly this is just to fill you guys in on shit that's happened while at the same time setting up the relationships between Shep, Wrex and Tali and what's left of the crew.

To summarize:

Shepard + Wrex = respectfully belligerent... or a mutual murder pact. (Krogans are a complex people.)

Shepard + Tali = Super-awkward friendship... with a misunderstanding. (Humans are a complex people.)

Normandy = a human vessel in name only.

And before you ask, _yes_: Ash and Kaidan will be back. I just wanted them off the scene for a bit so I can focus a bit on the xenos without having them lurking in the background, distracting everyone by being awesome/a jackass. They'll pop up on Feros and Noveria respectively, and rejoin thereafter. Each mission will also bring their personal peccadillos to light. Why did Ash go corporate samurai? Why does Kaidan hate Turians? _Why do Turians think humans are so weird? _(Actually, maybe not that last one. That'll be on a down-chapter.) These are questions that will be answered! Eventually.

Also, people have been commenting that things haven't been as good as they were in the beginning, with that glorious prologue. The main difference that _I_ can see is that I was just balls-out _flaunting_ the AU-ness, something I felt that I had to tone back once I got into the story proper. So, I ask of you: are you my maste- _No, wrong question!_

**Should I go back to that treatment of ME plot? **Should I just warp the canon willy-nilly, however I please? Because I think I can do that. I'd already planned on doing that on Noveria, and there's still time for me to do the same sort of thing in most other places._  
_

Tell me your thoughts.

Anyways...

Now go forth and be awesome, dear readers! Start your day by flexing at someone, and then watch as their heads to explode from a failed attempt to contain the radiant awesome exuded by your pits! (Doesn't matter if it's late at night: your day starts _now_.) Wink suggestively at that cute person on your way to whatever and cause their pants to erupt! Grunt with effort, and then grow an epic Freddy Mercury 'stache! _Even the ladies!_ Then shave it off and use it to shank your enemies, because those things are a hassle! Dive through a ten car collision while firing a pair of sub-machineguns into the gaping maw of a balrog and come out of it all unscathed! (Scent of roses optional, of course.) And then cause all nearby survivors to burst into synchronized dance with a cry of "do the hammertime!" Then end your new day with a really nice cup of tea!

Then review and thank me for giving you such great advice.


	7. Chapter 5: Driving Up The Phlegethon

**Rogue Nation**

**Chapter V: Driving Up The Phlegethon**

* * *

"_How can you say that I'm not alive? In five hundred years, I'll still be here. You, on the other hand, will be lucky if you're just a memory."_

_- Citizen Kane_

"Shepard, don't-" an agitated, female voice pleaded. "_Keelah,_ what are you-"

_**Whump!**_

"_Why did you do that?!"_

"Gun's overheated," the Shepard explained calmly, though with a certain amount of satisfaction. "And this is faster."

'This' was actually a lot less complicated than in sounded.

The Mako, being built with some of the best protection systems and armour that the CEG had available to it, was a tank in every sense of the word. It's main purpose in life was to smash through walls and provide its crew with several exits from which they could swarm out of. And it was a purpose that it performed admirably, and its drivers could happily bulldoze through a brick without ever slowing down.

That being said, it's main cannon left much to be desired, built as it was by a people that believed that big guns to be amusingly quaint. With that in mind, it was safe to say that the Mako's main canon wasn't exactly the greatest of weapons to carry into the battle. Its heat management system was antiquated, built from designs that had beendrafted _before the_ the Corporate Wars

Shepard had soon found this out, much to his frustration, when the Geth kinetic barriers stubbornly refused to go down faster than the Mako's.

The handy thing about lava, however, is that no amount of shielding will protect against it.

Shepard knew this, and after wasting half a minute trying to break through a Geth Armature's ridiculously overpowered shields, decided that the best possible way to take care of the matter at hand was to push it out into the river small lake of lava

"_It almost stepped on us!_" Tali'Zorah shouted

"Heh, grow a spine, Quarian," Wrex rumbled with amusement. "It worked out, didn't it?"

"That's no excuse! We could have all died, or- _Shepard, don't do it aga-_"

_**Whump!**_

"_Stop doing that!_"

"Sorry Tali," Shepard shrugged as if to express that it was out of his hands. "If there was an easier way of getting this done, I'd do it."

"Speak for yourself," Wrex said, and pointed at the viewing panel towards something in the distance. "There's another of the big over there. Ram it against that rockface."

"Good idea," Shepard agreed, and without stopping to consider the wisdom of driving a tank into a wall of stone at high speeds with an murderous synthetic shooting at them the whole time he proceeded to do just that.

The Mako shuddered as it smashed against the wall, crushing the armature's lower structure into a mangled ruin. With Wrex urging him on, Shepard backed the tank a short distance away and then rammed it yet again

"Keelah, this is crazy," Tali'Zorah muttered in disbelief as the Mako proceeded to make short work of the remaining Geth. Since they were of a decidedly smaller variant, this was much easier than it had been for the others. "We can't really be- no, Shepard, that boulder won'troll- _really?!_"

"I'm just as surprised as you are, Tali," the InVitro commented

"This is great," Wrex chuckled, and smiled a great big toothy smile that would have. "I almost wish they had real faces, just so we could see look on them as they got run over."

Shepard looked over at Wrex, suddenly feeling very bad about having the Krogan's approval about the way he had gone about dispatching the Geth. While he knew objectively that they felt no pain, it didn't change the simple fact that they were somewhat similar in built to a human, and they _were_ living beings. And he had just spent the entire battle trying to find new and interesting ways of maiming them.

He decided that he should probably leave the Mako behind on his next mission. He didn't want to get into any bad habits, after all.

"I'm... just going to rush towards the dig site," Shepard said lamely, and with that said he stopped turned sharply to continue. "We don't have time to waste on these things just now."

"Hmmph," the Krogan grunted in disappointment.

"Thank goodness," Tali said, relieved to hear it. "I didn't think we could take much more of a beating without having to stop for repairs."

"Oh, I'm sure we could," Shepard told her with confidence. "But I suppose you're mostly right."

Shepard was feeling a little bit better about his mission now that he was on the ground. While he still wished that Dr. T'soni had been at the company headquarters, he was relatively certain that he would still be able to cope. And it something very important going for it as well: no bugs. That was important, he felt, because the thought of dealing with another round of bites made him want to shoot something.

And the presence of the Geth wasn't nearly as prevalent as he had been led to believe. They put a stop to the company's mining operations, certainly, but they hadn't actually done much in the way of actual destruction. Hardly anything looked like it had been much disturbed, in fact.

Which was, now that Shepard had time to think about it, not an inherently good thing. It could well be that the only reason they hadn't done more was that they had already accomplished their goal and were now preparing to move onto whatever their next objective was.

Shepard forced the Mako to move a little faster, unwilling to let his first real mission with the Citadel turn into a failure simply because he'd been too slow. It would be a terrible way to start their relationship.

As they went, Shepard asked Tali what they could expect from the geth that they might not already have seen, and was a disappointed by what she had to say about them.

"I wouldn't actually know," she admitted reluctantly. "Nobody's had any contact with the Geth, and anybody who enters the Perseus Veil doesn't come back out. This is the first time in three-hundred years that anybody's seen them outside the Veil."

"Really?" Shepard said, allowing himself to perk up a bit. "Well, then I feel better about killing them."

"What?" The Quarian asked

"One of the first failures of a psyche-evaluations," Shepard explained. "One of the more dangerous ones too, since it's associated with a detachment from the Human condition. Once they draw a line between them and us, it's easier for them to do all sorts of things."

"Well, _of course_," Tali said with exasperation. "Why _wouldn't_ they draw a line between themselves and us? They're _synthetics_!"

The contents of the Mako were jostled sharply as Shepard stopped the tank dead in its tracks in order to stare at the Quarian.

He had known that there was bad blood between Quarians and the Geth, but for that to be spread over synthetics as a whole? That was a _dangerous_

He realized then and there that they would have to have a talk soon, because that kind of attitude had to stop before Cecil got wind of it. The AI was already more than a little leery about having someone that might be able to probe into his mind on board. Knowing that said person's default opinion of him was that he was separate from all organics wasn't going to do her any favours at all.

More than that, however, there was still a little loyalty to the TOC and its cause left inside him. Despite Kane's apparent insanity, he still believed in keeping the peace between synthetic and organic.

"_Never_ say that again," Shepard said firmly. "_Especially_ not on the Normandy."

"Why?" Tali demanded rebelliously. "You just said that you didn't feel bad about killing them a second ago!"

"This isn't about that!" Shepard hissed urgently. "Look, we'll talk about this later. For now, let's just-"

"Get out of the tank," Wrex interjected boredly.

"What?" Tali and Shepard said in almost perfect unison. The effect was somewhat spoiled by their differing native tongues, however.

"Why?" Shepard soon followed up, and looked through the viewing panel and noticed a squad of Humans approaching wearily.

He didn't recognize any markings on their environment suits. It was just a plain, dull grey all around with black lining along the edges of each section of armour plating. It was thoroughly non-descript, obviously designed to attract as little attention as possible while still affording the wearer as much protection as possible. The only noticeable thing about them was their armaments, in fact. In one hand they carried what looked like riot shields and assault rifles in the other. They looked like a more advanced version of the relatively common Lancer-series, which seemed ridiculous considering that they would only be able to use it with one hand. Their aim would be shot to hell.

Then again, with the shields they could probably afford to get in close enough that aim didn't matter. And with the six of them moving in an obviously practiced formation, it was safe to say that they were used to taking full advantage of their unusual choice of weaponry.

More worrying, however, was the knowledge that he had been assured by Eldfell-Ashland that there wasn't supposed to be any security personnel in the area: they were supposed to have withdrawn to other conflict areas in order to give him a wide berth so that he could conduct his search for the doctor with relative ease. There didn't seem to be much point in reneging on their part of the bargain.

"Come on," Shepard said with some concern. "Wrex, let's go see what's up. Tali, if any of them makes a move you don't like, make sure they don't make any more."

Tali'Zorah shifted in her seat and seemed like she wanted to argue this assignment but reluctantly nodded her assent and repositioned herself to be able to better handle the Mako's main canon. It might not have been very effective against a Geth armature, but against something as relatively small and unprotected as a human it would be very effective, riot shields or no.

"Alright," the Spectre pressed a button, and a panel in the side of the tank slid open with small hiss. "Then let's go say 'hello'."

* * *

The harsh air of Therum hit Shepard like a wall, the heat and sulphur burning deep inside his lungs as he reflexively took in a breath to brace himself against it. It cough a small cough to rack his chest, but he was confident that his inner workings would prevent any lasting damage to his lungs. It would have been better for him to wear a filter of some kind, but he hadn't expected to expose himself to the open atmosphere like this.

Ignoring the slight twinge in his lungs, Shepard approached the strange group, watching them carefully the whole time for any signs of ambush. He didn't think that Eldfell-Ashland would stab him in the back like this, but certain precautions would need to be observed, especially since he was essentially smuggling an illegal alien (an apt description on several levels) out of the system on the hopes that they would know something.

Without any internal discussion or hesitance, one of the soldiers advanced on them with seemingly peaceful intent. From the general shape of their armour Shepard could tell that they were a male, though not much else.

"John Shepard, Council Spectre," the man announced without any noticeable inflection or emotion. "Your permission to land on this planet has been rescinded. Please leave at the earliest convenience."

Shepard frowned at this, and surreptitiously reached for his pistol. There was something in the man's bearing that put the Spectre on edge.

"I was given clearance by the colonial administrator and the board of directors themselves provided I advise them on the situation," Shepard stated clearly, watching the group carefully. "Who has the authority to overrule that? Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

The soldier said nothing, but tilted his head to the side as if listening to something. The action was soon copied by the rest of his squad with almost perfect unison. Their heads nodded gently as time went on, and it took a moment for Shepard to realize that they were talking on an internal communications channel between one another.

Which wasn't a good sign. Shepard freed his pistol from its holster as discretely as he could.

"Wrex," he said quietly. "Get ready for a fight. I think they're-"

Whatever he had been about to say was abruptly cut off as Wrex freed his shotgun from its holster and shot the lead human in the face in one smooth motion.

"Grow a quad, Shepard," the Krogan growled as he pumped the shotgun barrel and fire into the rapidly scattering squad. "You're a Spectre now!"

Shepard was questioning the wisdom of bringing Wrex along even as he tensed his body and shimmered out of view. He had hoped that having a bit of muscle with him might _deter_ fights from happening: he hadn't expected Wrex to decide that it was easier to shoot first and question whoever was still alive afterwards.

He could appreciate a winning stratagem when it worked, however. Conversing amongst themselves as the strange soldiers had been, they had only had a few seconds to hastily raise their riot shields before a second shotgun blast tore into another of them followed shortly by a deep roar and a terrifying charge that trampled another of them.

As this was happening Shepard had dashed to the side, careful not to make his footfalls too heavy lest the sound and footprints alert his enemies of his presence. He moved with practiced ease around to their flanks, and with deadly precision opened fire on their exposed flanks. He aimed for the neck, knowing that that would be where the weakest and most reliably hit area would be, and was gratified to see one of his targets drop their rifle in order to clutch at their throat. They staggered forward as if trying to regain their balance before falling to their knees trying desperately to staunch the flow of blood.

Wasting no time, Shepard close on one of the remaining three as Wrex began his unstoppable charge and reduced the number to two.

They were still focussing on Wrex, which was a fatal mistake. As soon as Shepard got close enough he yanked one of their rifles out of their grasp and fumbled with it for only a brief second before finding a solid grip on the handle and opening fire at point blank.

The last, realizing that Wrex wasn't the only immediate threat, turned to face where he though Shepard was and would have fire had Tali'Zorah not chosen that exact moment to fire the Mako's main cannon.

The Geth might have had shields strong enough to weather the main cannon, but a lone human certainly did not. The unfortunate soldier was flung violently away, his chest detonating into a grisly cloud of ruined armour and flesh.

It couldn't have taken more than a minute for the fight to begin and end, and in the space of that time five people had been killed with deadly efficiency.

The lone survivor, the one that Wrex had trampled, was even now trying to crawl away from them.

"Hmmph," Wrex grunted as he surveyed the ruin they had inflicted. "Too easy."

Shepard scowled, and allowed his pilfered assault rifle to fall to the ground with disinterest. He wasn't in the habit of using weapons larger than a pistol or maybe a sub-machinegun as they interfered with his ability to vanish completely, and while a gun that seemed to float in the air could be unnerving to the untrained, an experienced soldier would know to shoot first and then examine the body later.

"Next time wait for my signal," Shepard berated with a shake of his head. "They might not have been our enemies!"

"Bah, look at them," Wrex said, and kicked one of the still corpses. "No markings, and they weren't willing to say who sent them. Whatever they were up to, they weren't supposed to be doing it."

It was a distinct possibility. With the company's security force busy handling the Geth, it was possible that a competitor might have decided to covertly insert a team onto the planet for some mission of some kind. But they had known who he was, and possibly even what he was doing on Therum.

"Maybe," he said, and looked towards the still-crawling survivor with grim resignation. "Let's find out."

Shepard calmly walked up to the soldier as he crested a small rise in the earth and mercilessly wrenched the man around onto his back before yanking his helmet off.

He immediately recognized the face as that of a Sean, a previous generation of InVitro that was much more common than Shepard's own due to their simpler genetic makeup and relative ease of care.

Seeing that he was caught, the Sean tried to reach for one of the grenades strapped to a bandolier around his chest before Shepard shot him through the forearm without a moment's hesitation.

"Don't try it," Shepard warned the Sean coolly, and raised his pistol menacingly. "Or I will shoot you again."

"He really will," Wrex added unnecessarily, chuckling to himself.

The Sean snarled ferally up at Shepard, baring teeth that had become pink with blood.

"You think that scares me? Shows what th'fuck you know, traitor!" the Sean shouted at them, and grinned wildly. "You can't kill me! I was never alive!"

Shepard frowned at this, and would have asked something more if not for two things.

The first was that the man's suit suddenly blared out a warning siren that cut off any question that he might have asked. It lasted for only a second before the second thing happened.

The second was that the dying man's head suddenly exploded. It was significantly less messy than it sounded like, however, because the bomb had apparently been implanted at the base of the skull where it connected with the spinal column, where the SOUL should be. As such, there was only sudden jolt of movement and then the back of his head splashed its contents onto the ground.

And an InVitro with no SOUL could mean one of two things.

The first reason could be a pretty complex one: for one reason or another, their employers thought there was no point in it. Whether it was they had failed out of the occupational school and ended up as nothing more than a mere soldier, or because they could make their own InVitros, or so many other reasons that meant that their employers had simply decided it better to let them die.

The second reason was infinitely simpler to understand: their employers believed that losing the agent permanently was better than having their SOUL found and possibly examined.

Given that a bomb had ensured that capture was impossible, Shepard was inclined to believe that the second reason applied.

There were only a handful of organizations that took such extreme precautions, and only one of them had the resources and the intelligence network to orchestrate something like this on such short notice.

And if _they_ were involved in all of this, then things were about to get a lot more difficult.

"What's going on over here, Shepard?" behind him, Tali'Zorah had just rejoined them. "Who is- oh _keelah._"

Shepard still didn't know what that meant, but he was certain that it was an oath of some kind. It was something he could get behind, their previous disagreement notwithstanding.

"Well," he said with a weary sigh. "This complicates things."

"What? That the corporate heads sold you out?" Wrex snorted derisively. "What else were you expecting from a bunch of suits?"

"These people don't work for any company," Shepard corrected the Krogan and frowned thoughtfully. "They don't work for anybody we can get a hold of. They're Shades."

It was the answer that made the most sense, after all. Unless the TOC had decided to forgo their normal uniforms and protocol, they weren't involved. And they were the next most likely candidate. There was always the possibility of a small terrorist or separatist group, but they would have had to a have been on the planet from the very beginning to have been able to react so quickly, which was even less likely on a planet like Therum.

It was probably also the reason why there were so few Geth nearby: the Shades were already dealing with them as they took care of their own mission.

"Shades?" Tali repeated, looking up from the ruined head. "What are they?"

"They're like the Spectres," Shepard explained. "Except they don't exist."

"Yeah?" Wrex nudged the corpse with his foot. "Looks like it exists to _me_. Or is this some more of that cloak and dagger nonsense?

"We could say that he was a member of the illuminati and we'd have just as much proof," Shepard said, and when he saw Wrex's nonplussed expression he realized that his choice of words had been poor. "I mean, we could say that he was anything we liked, and nobody would believe it."

"The Council might," Tali suggested.

"And they might take it seriously," Shepard agreed, and then shrugged. "But they can't pressure the CEG to disband an organization that doesn't officially exist."

He looked at their surroundings, and saw the mining platform that they had been heading towards before they had stopped.

"If there are any other groups nearby, they'll likely be heading towards us soon," he told them grimly. "We're going to have to move fast before they can get

"Heh," Wrex chuckled, and folded his arms. "Geth, a rogue Spectre and Asari matriarch, and now a cabal of assassins?" he grinned appreciatively at this. "You have the _best_ of enemies, Shepard."

* * *

**AN**: Alright, I was three days late. I have brought shame upon the name of Syroc.

SHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAME!

Still, good progress from one year, and I think I can do better next time! No! I _will_ do better!

For those who don't know, (which is perfectly fine. I had to look it up again before starting this chapter,) Phlegethon is a river of boiling blood in Hell described in _"The Divine Comedy"_. I thought it was apt, and the mental image of Shepard driving the Mako through Hell, pushing devils into inferal rivers made me snicker. I am easily amused.

And since the general consensus is positive, the willy will get some nilly-action. (No, that doesn't make sense to me either.) Thus we have an introduction to the Shades. They're in the Codex, towards the bottom. Long story short: they're humanity's answer to the Spectres. But _Dark!_ And _Edgy!_

...

... Seriously. Next chapter is going to go have a brief foray into the grimdark. Beware.

Now, dear readers, go forth and slap Cthulhu on his many-tentacled face! Learn to brew the world's strongest alcohol, and then use it to get a tiger and shark so messed up that they make literal tiger-shark babies! Learn to ride them, and then _ATTACK ALL THE BEARS!_ Invent a time-machine, and then immediately tell your former self not to worry, because _clearly_ you turn into a badass! (I mean seriously, you just invented a _time-machine_! An entire history's worth of rock stars, evil geniuses, international men of mystery, and Benedict Cumberbatch have all _failed_ to do so! Rock on, random internet person!) Then have some waffles. With syrup, of course.

Then review, and thank me for giving you such great advice!


	8. Chapter 6: Nameless Bastards

**Rogue Nation**

**Chapter VI: Nameless Bastards**

* * *

_ "... t, as much as you condemn the CEG for unleashing its synthetic monsters in all their murderous glory on the Batarians, the true horror of their war came within weeks of their infamous ultimatum. Lorek, once a prosperous garden world, is now a husk of its former glory. Now, step back and think about that: an entire PLANET was devastated. Such a plague did not exist until the Humans developed and unleashed it. And when they did, entire __**biospheres**__ were killed alongside millions of Batarian colonists. Genocide isn't a strong enough word for the atrocity that was committed that day, made all the worse by the knowledge that they tried it a second time on __**Khar'shan**__. The galaxy at large is lucky the humans were thwarted in their plans._

_And there is a more terrifying fact to consider as well. This disease - this nameless, world-ending calamity - could not have been made in the few weeks since the first pirate raid. It would have needed years, if not decades of research and development. It had to have been made __**before**__ hostilities broke out, and then held in reserve for just such an occasion._

_Lorek wasn't an accident. It wasn't self-defence. It certainly wasn't an act of desperation: it was a premeditated, knowing act of mass murder. _

_These are the people you're courting, Councillor. A race of monsters, who consider genocide to simply be another weapon in their arsenal of terror._

_- Fragment of a letter hacked from Councillor Velarn's account -_

* * *

Shepard reflected that there really was quite a lot he didn't know about Prothean archaeology (or even archaeology of any variety, really,) as he approached a mining platform that didn't in any way stand out for any of the others of its kind that he had already passed on his way there. In his mind's eye he had imagined a lightly sloping depression out of which the ruins of a dead race would reach out. He'd seen as much on Eden Prime, after all.

It was an antiquated image, certainly, but he hadn't thought that he could be so wrong in thinking it.

The truth of the matter was that any ruins so close to the surface had long ago been pilfered of anything of value: the only ruins left unspoiled were those buried deep under layers of volcanic ash and ancient lava flows. It had taken years of seismic mapping and piecing together information scavenged from other ruins had allowed the archaeologists to create extensive 3d maps of the ruins in question and so dig appropriately. It didn't matter that the ruins had been covered in many millennia-worth of ash and lava: if they hadn't already been destroyed by the natural flow of the earth, then the archaeologists knew exactly where to dig.

But as stated before, Shepard didn't know that.

So it was with some doubt that he approached the airlock of the mine shaft and opened it, all the while scanning his surroundings for something that was more in line with his internal image.

"Are you sure we're in the right place?" Shepard asked the two aliens at back doubtfully.

"These were the coordinates Joker sent us," Tali affirmed confidently.

After Shepard and Wrex had returned to the Mako the Quarian had refused to allow either of them into the driver's seat and thus was responsible for bringing them to the possible dig site. (She had been _very_ unimpressed with Shepard's driving prowess, despite its proven combat capabilities.)

Shepard examined the dull metal airlock for a moment before he sighed in defeat.

"Well, I suppose there's nothing else for it, then," he said, and with a wave of his hand he activated his hacking interface.

The airlock was surprisingly well fortified with security software, but Shepard's time on Mars had taught him more than he would ever need to know about breaching such measures as quickly as possible. (When failure entails a fate that was quite possibly worse than death, learning quickly becomes the highest priority.) As such, it was only a few moments before he managed to unlock the massive steel environment-sealing door.

It slid open with a hiss as air rushed into the enclosed space behind the steel locks while lights flickered into life to a narrow catwalk over a ravine that dropped into a flowing river of molten stone.

And the Prothean ruins.

They weren't what anyone had been expecting.

There weren't exactly buildings as such, so much as there were a veritable spiderweb of catwalks, pipes, wires and support beams holding up a single, _enormous_ structure that looked to be only one good earthquake away from falling into the fiery oblivion below. (And even then, it seemed more likely that I would lodge between the two sides of the ravine before it managed to dam the flow of lava with its size.) It looked like some kind of monolithic, segmented egg with small light panels that radiated bright neon yellow light across the hellish tangle of machinery. A huge central shaft dropped from it, terminating into the lava flow. While there were no significant evidence of what it was for, it would have surprised Shepard if it wasn't to take advantage of the lava flow in some capacity.

On either side of it were walkways that clung to the rock face connecting what looked like hundreds upon hundreds of darkened doorways. A few of them had various makeshift lighting networks leading into them, illuminating roughly cut halls or smooth, white plasteel panelling. It wasn't hard to imagine hundreds upon hundreds of narrow, ancient catacombs spreading and interconnecting into a vast maze.

It was an impressive sight to behold.

It was a shame that there were only three people to admire it.

That was of some import, Shepard felt, because it meant that either someone had already been disposed of the archaeologists or they were hiding from _him_.

"Hello? Dr. T'soni?" Shepard said into the ravine, and to his slight dismay the sound of his voice echoed and reverberated until it became almost wholly unintelligible. "Is anyone there?"

"Huh," Wrex grunted. "Nobody in the ruins. Who'd have imagined it?"

Tali gave a quiet snort of amusement.

Shepard shot the Krogan a dark look.

"This isn't funny," he said, and gestured to the tangled mess before them. "If the doctor isn't here, we're going to have to search this place for clues to see what happened."

"Yeah?" Wrex snorted with amuse. "I don't see any Geth, _or_ any of your Shades around here."

Shepard

"We _did_ have to hack into this place," he pointed out. "It's not like they could get in."

"Yeah," the way he said it made Shepard feel like he was being humoured by an adult. (Which was something of a new experience for him.) "A locked door. The bane of all synthetics and black ops. I don't know how they'd ever get past something like that."

Shepard wondered if there were other Spectres who had to deal with their hired help sassing them. (Another, meaner part wondered whether his extralegal powers extended to dealing with just such occasions.)

"Well if they _did_ get in, either they've taken _no_ casualties or they've already purged evidence of their presence," the negation came out agitated. "Nobody's here."

Fate, it seemed was conspiring with fortune to prove Shepard wrong at every turn, however.

"D, don't move!" A female voice commanded. Which was almost impressive, considering the person from which it came sounded as if she possessed all the authoritative qualities of a doormat. "Stay right there!"

The three of them turned as one to gawk at the nervous-looking asari.

Wrex's hands had already yanked his shotgun free and was about to bring it to bear when Shepard, having caught the motion in the corner of his eye, roughly pushed the muzzle of the gun upwards before the Krogan could shoot.

"Don't shoot!" he hissed loudly, though not exclusively, at Wrex. "Everyone stay calm!"

Everyone froze for a moment, and in that moment Shepard assessed the newcomer with a careful eye.

Shepard's experience with their kind was limited to the few he had met on the Citadel, and he wasn't exactly sure what to make of them as a species. The Councillor and her functionaries could hardly be said to be representatives of their species as a whole, (which was funny, because that was exactly what they were,) but to a one they had all exuded a kind of serene superiority. He supposed it came with centuries of experience...

He gave a sidelong look at Wrex, and decided that that probably wasn't the case.

In either event, she was wearing a set of heavily stained, faded-white coveralls and a pair of smudged goggles resting on her forehead. She held the pistol with both hands at arm's length, as if she were afraid it might move on its own without her intervention. Which, given then way it quivered ever-so-slightly, might not be too farfetched

"I, I said don't move!" the asari ordered again, this time managing to almost sound convincing.

Shepard looked her up and down and, deciding that she looked close enough to what he imagined an archaeologist should look like,

"Dr T'soni?" he asked as gently as he could. It was almost too much to hope for that she was the one he was there for, but it never hurt to ask.

"Y, you're with them, aren't you?" she accused forcefully. So forcefully, in fact, the gun in her hands shook. "Those... those... _whatever_ they are!"

"It's just us," he tried to sound as placating as possible. He raised his hands to demonstrate that he had nothing in them. "We're with the Council. My name is Shepard, and I'm a Spectre."

This seemed to take the woman by surprise, because she lowered his pistol in order to better convey her confusion at this statement.

"A Spectre?" the way she said the word made it clear just how likely she considered that possibility. "But you're human!"

Wrex made a sound of amusement, and it was all Shepard could do to suppress the urge to sigh.

"I defected," he simplified. Technically it wasn't true, but it could just as easily be true. And, thankfully, the gun was no longer pointing at him. (Shepard was certain that his life was threatened with a great deal less frequency when he was in the employ of the TOC.) With the immediate danger gone, he decided to try again. "_Are_ you Dr. T'soni?"

"Yes, that's me," the asari finally relented. She gave him an askance look all the same, however. "You're _really_ a Spectre?"

"_Yes_, I really am a Spectre,"

"But you're _human!_"

"I'll explain later," he promised. "For now, however, we need to get you off the planet."

"Yes," "Yes, of course. Eldfell-Ashland must have sent for help."

"From the Council?" Shepard gave a wry laugh. "Yeah, they'd rather nuke the planet from orbit than ask the Council for help."

"But- Then why are you here?"

"Because your mother wants something from you," Shepard said cryptically. He didn't mean to, but it was hard to be anything else when he knew nothing about what Saren, Kane and Benezia wanted.

"My mother? What has she-" Liara started before she seemed to think better of it. "No, nevermind. And the Geth, you said? So that's what they are," she shook her head in agitation. "What does my mother have to do with this?"

Shepard regarded the doctor with some suspicion. He could tell that she was hiding something. It was obvious. He couldn't quite tell what it was, or how it tied in with her mother, but it was significant.

"We don't know for certain," he explained cautiously. "But the Council thinks it might have something to do with your research."

"My research? But, my mother's never shown any particular interest in it before! Why would she-"

"It may not be her so much her allies. Saren Arterius and Citizen Kane," he said, and watched her carefully for any signs of recognition in her eyes as he said the names. She tensed at both of them, and Shepard made a note of it. Both of them had enjoyed a certain level of notoriety even before they had gone rogue, but it might be significant of something else. "Something about 'Reapers'. An ancient race of machines apparently."

Memories danced through his head again as he said the word, and this time Shepard _did_ wince. There were... sounds, unheard and unknowable, in those memories. Voices without meaning, but carrying strange understanding.

"Reapers?" the archaeologist repeated, and shook her head. "This is just getting more and more confusing. I thought it was just the Shades."

"Wait," Shepard said, "The Shades are here for _you_?"

"What? No!" the asari refuted with suspicious haste. Under the combined scepticism of the quarian, human and krogan, however, her resolve broke. "Well... maybe. Not _me_."

She wilted visibly as the three of them waited for an elaboration.

"I, I think I may have gotten in over my head a bit," the Asari said and she pinched her brow while sighing heavily. "I was just supposed to be teaching them, but then the Geth came and it was safer for them to hide with me than send them back. And then the food was running out, so I sent out a message to- well, my mother. I didn't know what else to do! I didn't know it was illegal! They told me-"

"Slow down, doctor," Shepard said, getting worried about the whole situation. "Start at the beginning."

Liara T'soni laughed bitterly.

"You'll have to see it for yourself," she said. "Come on, I'll show you."

The asari turned and without any hesitation threw herself into the tangle of wires and pipes. However, instead of immediately plummeting to her fiery death, she treated them to an acrobatic lightshow as crackles of static electricity lit up around her body as she swung and from cable to pipe to cable with a practised ease and grace. She passed the intervening space from the narrow catwalk to the central structure in a series of swift arcs of movements, effortlessly throwing herself towards a catwalk and landing in a loose crouch.

A moment later she realized that she was alone.

"Oh. Uhm," the asari seemed embarrassed. "Sorry. I didn't think. We train here all the time, and I- uhm. There's another way... somewhere over there?" the uncertainty in her voice was not promising.

Shepard sighed heavily.

"How strong are these wires?" he asked.

"How strong...?" Liara repeated, blinking owlishly. "Uhm, we don't know. But the highest ones used to support several large boulders before we cleared them up. So..." she gave a small shrug. "Pretty strong?"

"And they're not likely to fall out?"

"If they could, they already would have. I think."

"Good." Shepard studied the tangled mess for what seemed like a long time. The distance couldn't have been more than ten meters away, but that was still an impressive distance for a place as tangled as this. "Stand back, please."

That was all the warning anyone got before Shepard, deciding that it was better to get to the bottom of things as quickly as possible and then _leave_ before either murderous robots with an unknown agenda or murderous un-persons with nebulous goals could catch up to them. (Life had been simpler for Shepard when all he had to do was talk to, evaluate and, on occasion, kill people. But not much.)

_"Shepard!"_ Tali'Zorah cried out in horror.

He felt a brief moment of glorious weightlessness before gravity inevitably pulled him down. But he had aimed his leap carefully, and just as his forward momentum began to dip his hands found a think wire and he threw his lower body forward and upwards. His stomach seemed to drop out from him as he let go and flew through the air once more, rising in falling with alarming speed. But then his hands found something else to grab, and then he was once again _flying._

While somewhat less graceful in execution that Liara, he nevertheless managed to follow her course admirably for someone completely devoid of her natural ability. He didn't so much land on the catwalk as he collided into it, his stomach slamming into it even as his hands desperately searched for some kind of purchase before he fell into the abyss. Thankfully, Liara turned out to be of assistance in that effort. With a look of surprised concern and a flick of her wrist she yanked the human upwards with her biotics.

Shepard simply sat for a moment, allowing his heartbeat to slowdown and the adrenaline to stop pumping.

"Goddam pyjaks..." a mutinous Wrex grumbled loudly.

"Shepard?!" Tali'Zorah shouted from the other side of the ravine. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine!" he called back. "Wait over there and make sure nobody follows us! Once the doctor and I have things sorted out over here, we'll come back to you!"

"A-alright!" the quarian agreed with obvious relief. "We'll be here!"

Shepard grunted as he pushed himself to his knees, wobbling a little bit as his balance recovered from the acrobatic display he had put on. Soon enough he was on his feet, looking towards Liara expectantly.

"Uhm," the asari's eyes were wide as she wathed him. "This way, please."

She pointed towards a darkened doorway into the building.

"Lead on, doctor."

She smiled brief before proceeding to do just that.

The inside of the building was just as well lit up as its exterior had been. Which meant that while Shepard could see where he was walking for the most part, there were still a great number of deep and impenetrable shadows. What he _could_ see, however, was machinery. Lots and lots and lots of machinery. Huge cogs, heavy chains and what looked like enormous cauldrons of bright, shining metal.

"As far as I can tell the Protheans used this as a mining platform," Liara explained. She sounded much more at ease explaining ancient alien machinery than she had threatening him. "When it was fully operational it would siphon off magma from the flow and filter out the resources they needed."

"That sounds useful," Shepard said, not sure what else he could say. He studied what he now assumed to be a rock crusher, but which _still_ looked like the bastard child of a clock and a demon's mouth. (The protheans might have built to last, but that did nothing to change that fact that what they were building was _freaky_.)

Liara smiled brightly at that, and gestured for him to follow her deeper into what was, apparently, a geothermic smelting facility.

"Uhm," she mumbled, leading him into what looked like a storage room."That was very impressive, back there. I didn't think anyone without biotics could do anything like that."

"Yeah," Shepard grunted, and almost grinned. "Most people don't."

It was amazing how many people thought that 'difficult to reach' meant 'impossible to access'. Shepard had been taught to know the difference, and then trained to reinforce it. It was amazing what synthetic muscle weaves and a reinforced skeletal structure could accomplish, and acrobatics such as he had just performed were among the least of them.

"Oh!" the doctor seemed alarmed by his comment. "I didn't mean that- well, it's just that most humans don't have biotics, and- well, I can't imagine not having them."

"Well, they _do_ seem pretty handy," Shepard agreed. For a brief moment he wondered if Kaidan could do something similar with his biotics.

"But the children have been doings so well! They're almost like asari with how quickly they learn!"

That caught the man's attention.

"The children?" Shepard repeated letting his confusion show.

"Uhm," Liara realized that she had mentioned something important.

"Who are you talking about, doctor?" Shepard asked with mounting concern. "Which children?

Liara bit her lower lip nervously.

"I suppose it doesn't matter anymore," she said in defeat. She raised a hand, and electricity crackled along it as her biotics took effect.

The doors of a nearby supply crate swung open with ponderous slowness and a loud groan of metal.

Inside were eight children fearfully hiding behind two teenagers. The children looked old enough to span from six to ten, whereas the teenagers looked to be around sixteen.

"Aunt Liara?" one of the children said fearfully, but the eldest quickly shushed them before returning their attention to him.

The two of them wore what looked like the ugly armour of those learning the basics of fighting, with the various weak points of the body or armour highlighted with holographic red light and the hardpoints painted a dull green. It was meant to teach them where to strike to inflict the maximum amount of damage.

Shepard hadn't seen armour like it since he had learned the skills of his trade, and even then it had been a very, very long time since he had been so green as to need to have his trainers or fellow students wear it.

But even as strange as that was, it wasn't what caught his eye the most.

No, what was the most worrying about the two of them and, as he looked closer at the children behind them, was that they all had the same face. Eyes, mouths, noses, bone structure... there was almost no variation between them.

Worse, he recognized some of his own features on their faces. He spotted the odd, pale skin and eyes almost immediately, but what shocked him more were the _differences_.

There was almost always a greater level of similarity between members of the various generations. Tampering with genetic sequences only increased the risk of mutation or unforeseen consequences, so once a viable strain was discovered it was quite often let alone. No company wanted to pay an exorbitant amount on healthcare just because some overly ambitious lab technician had wanted stir up the genepool a little. That was why it was so very easy to spot an InVitro: if you saw one, you had most likely seen most of them. Every John from the outermost regions of the Fringe to Sol itself was, for the most part, exactly the same.

But _these_ didn't look like any previous generation. The similarities were there, but they were more akin to those between parents and child than of, for example, the tiny variations that came with time.

And they had an asari for their instructor. A race that specialized in something that humanity had only just begun to understand.

"Fourth generation," the InVitro murmured in disbelief. "_That's_ why the Shades are here."

He nodded meaningfully at the children.

"They're here to make sure no one finds them."

"Well done, Spectre!" someone complimented, followed by a single clap of their hands. "Your deductive skills must be beyond compare for you to so readily grasp what is plain before you!"

Shepard whirled around, his pistol already free by the time he took a blast of pure kinetic force to the chest that sent him sprawling three feet away.

Another asari had apparently followed them, and Shepard immediately recognized her from the dossier the Council had provided him. He had studied it, and the extensive list of documents that had followed with it. He had pored over her life with as much diligence as he had ever devoted to any one AI, trying to feel out the shape of her mind. Which was no mean task for an entity with hundreds of years of life. (But was somewhat easier considering that he needn't ascribe significance to each and every action like he would an AI.)

"Benezia," he growled.

"Mother?"

"Daughter," the matriarch smiled beatifically as, behind her, a line of geth soldiers and asari commandos filed into the room. "It has been too long. We should talk. There are some people I'd like you to meet."

* * *

**AN: **"Syroc!" I hear you shout in anger. "What the hell, guy?! You're _ridiculously_ late! Your promises mean _nothing!_"

And you would be right, though I'll thank you not to be so loud about it. Moving on!

Alright, deadlines: ROUND TWO! Next chapter is up Friday next week (20/09/13, just so I can't weasel out of it). And if it isn't... flood me with anger. Seriously, do it. Accept no excuses! (Unless, y'know, they're _good_.) Do me this favour. It will only help me.

AndohmygoshIjusttoldtheinternettoabusemeohgodIamaf ool.

But seriously. Do it. Carte blanche, peoples. (But don't be a dick. Use your better judgement.) Janizary's already resurrected the story that way ;D

Anyways.

You'll have to forgive me for changing up Therum. Because, if you remember, the willy is getting all up in that nilly. (Nope. Still doesn't make sense.) So, instead of just a rescue, there's _intrigue!_ And actual ruins!

(And yeah, Shepard is a goddam ninja in this. Because cyber-ninjas are made of awesome. And metal. But mostly awesome.)

Next chapter will resolve this whole issue, and we'll return to the Normandy. You don't get to vote on what Shep does, because I as much as I dislike children I will _not_ write a scene in which they get the axe.

(Yes, I know I wrote a ME/Fallout 3 story before this. It just sorta popped into my head and would not leave me alone.)

Speaking of doing things:

Go forth, dear readers, and be amazing! Dance upon the wing of a flying, old-timey bomber! (Good thing you still have that time machine, right?) Ride a bomb to the ground Dr. Strangelove-style, singing obscene songs about hedgehogs as you fall! Freeze time with a wink and a smile just before you land, because you obviously don't _really_ need a time-machine, then watch the explosion from a safe distance! Hug a desert-lion, and in doing so create a bond so powerful that the two of you become inseparable! Then go on adventures! Save the princess! Steal the idol from the Jovitos! Savage the local Evil Overlord! (Unless you live in Norway. In which case HAIL BENEVOLENT OVERLORD! NO THOUGHTCRIME!) Turn the lion into a rug! And then curl up on it in front of the fire and enjoy a nice cup of cocoa.

Then review, and thank me for giving you such great advice.

(Shame about your lion friend, but you had to curl up on _something, _and after a day like yours the couch simply would not do.)


	9. Chapter 9: A Mother's Love

**Rogue Nation**

**Chapter VII: A Mother's Love**

* * *

_Archon Sun Tzu of Shanxi may be facing termination this week due to his radical proposal to the rest of the Archon Council. The proposal amounts to a complete reversal on the Council's current stance on WMDs, and would allow certain blacklisted companies and entities a full pardon for their part in development of such weapons._

_The Archon defended his proposal by pointing to the worsening relations with the Citadel, and that resumption of the First Contact War is still a very real possibility. During the deliberations, he gave this public address to the full Archon Council, interim chairman Scheherazade of the TOC and the citizenship of Shanxi:_

_"For decades, we as a species have been content to pretend that the war never happened. We drew our line in the sand, and then built walls upon it. But walls, no matter how tall or sturdy, does not change the fact that we are surrounded. That we are outclassed. That we are hopelessly outnumbered._

_Our survival as a society – a free species, even – is wholly dependent on the indulgence of our neighbours._

_Should we ever have to continue our war with them, we cannot allow ourselves to be hampered by the luxury of morality. Should we ever need to defend ourselves against the endless armies they can marshal against us, we cannot afford to deprive ourselves of a weapon or stratagem simply because the little voices in our heads that are our consciences calls them monstrous._

_I advocate this measure not out of malice, but love: love of freedom, love of our home and love of our people. Let those who would seek to destroy them pay the greatest price."_

_The Archon's speech has since come under criticism from the TOC, and Citizen Scheherazade has called the Archon to stand before a full inquiry. To date, only nine Citizens have been called for such an inquiry, the most noteworthy among them being Eve, Soul Market founder Citizen Charon, and the terrorist Xenophon._

* * *

Shepard counted fifteen assault rifles, nine shotguns, three pistols and five (surprising, considering the cramped nature of the storage room they were in,) sniper rifles pointing in his general direction. It was a unique experience that he hoped, if he survived it, would never ever be repeated.

He fought the impulse to fade out of visibility, if only because he suspected it would provoke thirty-two trigger fingers to pull at once. And that was something to be avoided for as long as possible.

There was a small chink in that plan, however, in that doing so would require him to talk to and possibly anger a centuries-old woman with enough biotic potential to crush him into a ball of meat. His study of her history provided him some insight into her character, but that had been before she started shacking up with a rogue Spectre and a (possibly) insane AI and started sacking backwater colonies. After decades upon decades of being an agent of pacification and an ambassador of good will, that was the sort of thing that would, had she been an AI, would have suggested either outside influence or a fatal flaw in her code finally coming into effect.

Or just plain insanity. Madness was the great equalizer when it came to people who could level cities if the desire so took them: it didn't matter who they were, where they had come from or even what happened to them afterwards. The only thing that mattered was that they were stopped.

Unfortunately, the matriarch had yet to do anything that would suggest that she had suffered a sudden and severe break with reality.

Matriarch Benezia approached, her long, dark dress gliding soundlessly across the ancient metal. Beside him, Liara tensed nervously and took a step backward.

"Come along, dear child," the matriarch purred. "There is work to be done, and we cannot tarry long in these ruins."

"Work? What work? What are you talking about, mother?" Liara asked, and shot a worried glance towards Shepard. "Why is a Spectre trying to get me out of here before you can talk to me? Why are the _Geth_ here?!"

Which was a very good question. Kane was probably involved, though for the life of him Shepard couldn't imagine why.

Instead of musing on that further, however, Shepard decided that it was probably better to stop Benezia from getting any closer to Liara than she already was. It would defeat the whole purpose of having come here if the two of them just walked off and he let himself get shot as a prelude to letting children be disappeared by, possibly, the government. (That was the problem with black ops programs: without any oversight, it was very hard to made sure that they were actually working for the benefit of their government.)

"Questions upon questions," Benezia said with mock exasperation, a wry smile upon lips. "My daughter, the archaeologist. All will be answered in due time, dear child. But first you must come with me."

He moved to interpose himself between the two women, surreptitiously pulling his pistol free from its holster but not raising it. He wanted to be ready, not to instigate a firefight. Not yet, anyways.

"The doctor will be returning to Citadel space," he said, trying not to let his concern for the many soldiers that surrounded him show. He tried to smile, just to show just how unconcerned he wasn't. "If you'd like to accompany her, you'll have to leave behind your attendants. We don't have enough room."

The attempt at levity went unacknowledged as the matriarch inspected him and apparently found him wanting. Her amusement slowly turned to disgust as she took in his features. Her smile twisted into a sneer, her chin raised slightly in a familiar gesture of superiority. (Even across species, there was such a thing as turning up a nose at someone.)

"You," she sneered. "I had heard that a human had been accepted among the Spectres, but I had thought that humanity would not be so eager to loose their monsters upon the galaxy."

"I'm not the one who destroys colonies," Shepard snapped back at her. He'd been called a monster before but not, he suspected, for the reasons Benezia meant. Somehow he doubted she was aware of his personal history.

Benezia scoffed at this, and turned her course so that she could slowly pace around him.

"No, but only due to a shrug of fate," she dismissed the accusation, not even bothering to deny it. "Tell me, child, who is your mother? Is it the glass womb that bore you, or the unfeeling hands that weighed and judged you? Perhaps the nameless instructors who manipulated you onto the path you now follow? Employers?"

"What? What does that have to do with anything?" Shepard asked.

"Motherless. Loveless. Friendless," the matriarch listed coolly. Her lips quirked into a tiny grin. "_Soulless._ You are no more a human than you are a fish. Did you feel remorse when you killed? Do you give a second's pause at the pain you sow? Why would you hesitate to do as I have done, had you been ordered?"

_You don't even need the order_, a dark shadow of Shepard's mind purred. _You've already done it. Mars was an atrocity. And you wiped it clean with one of your own._

The memories came unbidden with the thought. A playground filled with the fleshy puppets that were children in appearance only. The slow lurch of feet as a mind unused to meat tried to make sense of the chaos it was imposing its will upon. The walking dead, alive only inside their minds. Maybe not even there.

He'd killed them, or their bodies, in order to kill the diseased mind that had made them that way. He'd thought it a kindness... but according to whom? He hadn't exactly been raised to be a paragon of virtue. Obedience to the law was the extent had been the breadth of what had been all that was expected of him.

If he had gone to the Fringe, what atrocities would he have been asked to commit on the behalf of his employers?

What would someone else in his position have done?

"Ahhh..." Matriarch Benezia's sneer turned to a knowing grin. "It sees. It understands."

There was some truth to what she said.

And now? Now nobody was guiding him. All the decisions were _his_.

He cast a quick glance over his shoulder, towards the children that would render the whole of his generation obsolete.

In a moment he saw their whole future before them: they would be tentatively trained, just as they had before, in complete secret. No doubt the corporate presence here had made a deal their creators in order to get their hands on some of the new strain before the other labs could gestate and train their own. They would enjoy the advantage of having the most advanced assassins, spies or saboteurs in the galaxy... and the children would have no choice in the matter. They had been bought and paid for even before they been embryos.

And should they prove genetically unviable? Should they be a true race of their own, completely separate from humanity? They would be quietly killed before the Archons could learn of it and punish their creators for breaking the law.

It wasn't that hard to imagine, if only because it was very much what would have happened had they been born like him.

Better, then, that they should die now.

Mars had been an atrocity.

But this could be something else.

"Liara?"

"Yes, Shepard?"

"Protect the children," there was no uncertainty in him as he gave the order.

Being a Spectre had its privileges. And if he couldn't get the Council to find homes for them, then there really was no place for them in the galaxy.

A new batch would undoubtedly created, but that was a problem for another day. He could only fix the now.

Benezia's laughter was like a tinkle of broken glass: full of glamour and sharp edges.

"So you would have my daughter become their mother?" she said. "You would give their guidance over to one who is a child herself? She is not capable of ruling her own life, or she would not be hounded by monsters like you."

"Better to be a monster than a wrinkled old whore."

Shepard froze at the voice. It was _his_... except it wasn't. The accent was wrong. Which meant that it was someone _else_ here. Someone who could do what he could, who could sneak through Geth and asari commandoes. And if he was incredibly lucky, there would only be one of htem. He didn't put much hope into that eventuality, however.

"Mother fucker," he cursed.

It seemed appropriate.

Behind him, dark shapes and faceless masks faded out of obscurity and into view, each of them wearing armour similar to the soldiers that had been found outside. There were, of course, no markings or insignia that marked who they were... but it was safe to assume that where one troop of Shades had been found there would be more. Anything else would strain what little credulity the situation had left.

Caught in the crossfire between two organizations that wanted him dead, Shepard couldn't help but laugh and raise his pistol.

It was a far cry from Mars, and he doubted there would be a handy life-support system he could sabotage even if he decided the children weren't worth it. All the same, however, he couldn't allow himself to be stopped.

Making decisions was _hard_.

* * *

**AN:** Whoo! I dun made my deadline! And the internet didn't need to break down my door! Go team Syroc! (Yes, I _will_ play the timezone technicality card today. Hooray for cheating!)

And yes, I know it's _much_ shorter than usual... but that's the downside of this arrangement. I'll only do better as I get into the groove, though. Hopefully.

Also: next time on Rogue Nation! The Mongolians will be dropping cluster-fuck bombs all over everyone! Geth, Asari Commandoes, Liara and little biotics, Shepard and the Shepard clones, oh my! _There can only be one!_

Anyways, no time to rest on my laurels. Shit to do, stories to write, jackboots to procure, nations to trample 'neath them. Just as last time, next chapter will be up next week. Or else. (_You're_ the "or else" in this instance. Let loose them dogs, and tear into my ass. It needs- no. Not going down that road.)

Minor liberties taken with Benezia here, but I did what I could to keep up her strange fixation on motherhood, though. I wanted her to try to pull off the matriarch shtick we hear about but see so little of.

Anyways, now for the most important part of this notation...

Go forth, dear readers! Ride into a sunset, and then into space by climbing the fading rays of light! Ride a comet by the tail, and take care not to get hit in the face by SPACE-tigers! (Because a space without SPACE-tigers is a space not worth having.) Then somersault back to earth with the kinetic force of a thousand Bruce Lee flying kicks and level a small town! Feel really bad about it, and then devote the rest of your days to curing cancer! Do it a week, and then have a plate of waffles! Because waffles.

Then review, and thank me for giving you such great advice.

...

...

Right, I've taken _some_ experience from my foray into the dark realm of anime. Here. Have some omake.

* * *

_Omake: Critical Spot Check Failure_

Tali'Zorah peered over the ledge down to the lava below, fingering the trigger of her shotgun nervously. It had only been a few moments, but she didn't like leaving Shepard alone with the doctor. The little stunt she had pulled earlier wasn't the sort of thing someone should just be able to do - not without training.

"Do you really think there's only one entrance?" she asked.

She was still a bit nervous about travelling with her one-time kidnapper, but the Krogan seemed friendly enough. In an ambivalent kind of way.

"Sure," Wrex said, and shrugged. "It's not like anyone would want multiple ways out of this place, just in case something bad happened."

Tali'Zorah suspected she wouldn't have needed a translator to pick up on the sarcasm

"... So there _is_ more than one entrance," she said. "We should follow Shepard, then."

"No, he had a good idea. We've got a good view of that thing. If anyone else tries to get in, we can spot 'em easily enough. We'd be able to easily get behind them before they could set up an ambush."

As if to punctuate this assertion there came the sound of gunfire.

"... Of course, I could be wrong," Wrex admitted.


End file.
